Seasoned with Love
by Lauriesf
Summary: This is a behind the scenes story as it follows the life of the head of the food service. If, like me, you've always wondered what it was like to live on Atlantis on a daily basis, this story is for you. I'll try to keep it as close to canon as possible throughout all five seasons. The rating has been changed to be on the safe side for further chapters. PS: I live on feedback!
1. Chapter 1

SGA – Seasoned with love

 _At first, I was looking for a universe where my OC could come to life and Atlantis seemed indeed perfect. I started with a one-shot, borrowing characters from the show to serve as background. It soon appeared I had plenty of stories to tell and my OC was offering me a different POV on the show – a sort of behind the scenes story. I always wondered what it would be like for the characters to live on a daily basis on Atlantis, not just perform some extraordinary missions._

 _This is of course only for entertainment purposes. No infringment intended. There will be spoilers from different seasons and I'll try as much as possible to keep the stories in the chronological order. I hope this character and story will be to the readers' liking. I'm sure having fun writing it._

 _Chapter 1 – First Encounter_

The lights of the mess hall have all been switched off but he can still see light filtering from the kitchens. It really is very late at night and he doesn't want to bother whoever is still there but it's worth a shot so he tentatively cracks open the door and looks inside.

There's only one person sitting at the long table that is probably used, he reflects, by the cooks' assistants. The kitchen is spick and span at this late hour. She is pouring over a book, writing in it, while checking lists to her right.

He's never seen her before. At least, he doesn't remember seeing her. He feels he's intruding but he is intent on getting what he needs so he plods on, knocking softly on the door. She startles and yelps, turning in alarm. "Oh, wow, Sir," she says hurriedly, clammering to her feet, "you scared me."

He rubs his hand through his already unruly hair and pouts. "Sorry, Ma'am, didn't mean to. I was looking for something to eat for Dr Weir. She's working late again and has skipped dinner and probably lunch too," he elaborates.

She leaves her pen in her book and closes it then heads for the fridge. "No problem, Sir. I understand. We always have more than needed so you're bound to find leftovers anytime you drop by. I'll let you browse the contents and if you don't find something to her liking, I can whip something up for her," she offers, motioning for him to come closer.

He thanks her and retrieves a sandwish, a yoghurt and an apple. "This will do," he says. "Do you still have coffee? From what I saw, she's far from being finished," he says, motioning in the direction of the control room.

"Nope, but I can make a fresh pot if you give me ten minutes," she offers, already setting to work.

"That's awfully nice of you. I never drop by so late at night. I'm sorry if I'm making you pull extra time. You must have finished your shift and want to get back to your quarters," he apologizes.

She turns to him and smiles, crossing her arms on her apron. "No big deal, Sir. I'm used to it and I really don't mind."

He shakes his head. "I'm not Sir to you. You're a civilian. Only military need to address me that way." He holds out his hand. "I'm John.".

She relunctantly shakes his hand. "I'm aware of who you are, Major Sheppard. I'm Louise," she says before hastily retrieving her hand and hiding it behind her back.

He sees her unease and puts it down to his uniform and the sidearm hanging from his leg. He knows quite a few civvies here who are uncomfortable with the sight of military running around the city. He nods. "Nice to meet you, Louise. You new here?" he asks. He tells her he's never seen her before. Her eyes crinkle. "I've been here from the start, Major. I just spend most of my time down here." Her voice trails off. He watches her from the corner of his eye as she goes to check on the pot of coffee and prepares the tray for Elizabeth. She looks like a little mouse, he reflects with a fond smile. The kind you don't notice in a room full of people but here in the empty kitchen, she exudes gentleness and efficiency and he makes a mental note of taking time to meet all the people of the expedition who like her might not have a lofty position but make everybody's life easier.

She fills a tall mug of coffee, adds two sugar cubes and a small pot of milk on the side of the tray and holds it out to him. "There," she says with a smile, "all done."

He tilts his head to the side, curious. "How do you know how Dr Weir takes her coffee?"

She shrugs it off. "I know about everyone in the expedition and the Athosians too. I know who likes what. I'm rarely wrong. That's my job, you know," she adds before opening the door for him. "Good evening, Major," she says, nodding respectfully.

He looks taken aback. "When I have the time, you'll need to tell me more about that."

She just smiles and closes the door after him.

He drops the tray on Elizabeth's desk. "Thought you might want something to eat," he says off-handedly. He really wants to chide her for repeatedly skipping meals but he holds his tongue in check and opts for looking his own casual self.

She smiles at him and motions for him to sit. He takes the chair in front of her. "Thank you, Major, for being such a mother hen to me," she teases him before grabbing the sandwish and biting into it. He rolls his eyes. She takes a sip of coffee and voices her appreciation. "That's good coffee. It's most welcomed at this time of day – night," she adds, seeing his look of reproach.

"Yeah, about that," he says. "I went to the kitchen to get it. Do you happen to know a person there who goes by the name of Louise? In her early 40s most likely, 5ft 1 or 2 inches, pixie short chesnut brown hair, light brown eyes and soft features, a slender body, creamy pale skin?"

She nods, taking another sip. "I know everyone, John. It's my job. You're pretty observant, by the way."

He quips back. "That's my job." She laughs.

"You know, actually, this is what she said too." She raises an eyebrow so he elaborates. "She said it was her job to know what everyone liked. Did you ever happen to go down to the kitchen to get your coffee? Because she knew exactly how you liked it, apparently. Does she have some uncanny ability like an edeitic memory? There are more than two hundred people on this expedition and she seems to know all about Teyla's people as well..."

"Are you worried, John?" she wonders. "She's just the cook. She's no threat to anyone here. We checked."

He raises his hands in mock surrender. "Didn't say that, Elizabeth. So, she's the cook, uh? You mean like the one in charge or one of the assistants?"

"No, she is in charge, John. Actually, you might get to know her better sooner than you imagine. I happen to have discussed a mission with Teyla. She has faithful allies with whom her people have traded for generations and who might be willing to sell us a part of their crops. They have vegetable patches and orchads and I'd like Louise to go with your team and pick what she thinks might be of use to her. Do you think that would be possible?" She sees his hesitation. "What? Is something the matter? You know I trust your judgement in most matters, civilian and military alike. Do you distrust her?" she worries.

He stands. "It's not that. She doesn't seem to be a people person. I wouldn't want her to be spooked by an off-world mission. Hell, if I had not dropped by tonight to get you dinner, I wouldn't even know she existed and we've been here for quite a while now! Anyway, I'll leave you to your dessert and work. Don't be too long. You need to sleep, Dr Weir, like every one of us," he remarks pointedly.

She smirks. "Yes, mom! And, John, don't judge a book by its cover. Take time to get to know her. Believe me. She's a valuable addition to our expedition, especially if we have to depend on her ability to cook meals from scratch and not be dependent on Earth's supplies anymore."

He nods his assent before leaving the room. "Goodnight, Elizabeth."

"Goodnight, John."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2 – Cookie Time_

A couple of days later he drops by the kitchen again. Elizabeth has authorized a mission to Elisia, the planet where they're supposed to negociate for food so he figures he might as well take Elizabeth's advice. The recurring nightmares he's had since the storm are raking his nerves and he tells himself a glass of milk and a couple of cookies might do the trick.

It's earlier and a few of her staff are still cleaning the kitchen tops while she is putting away the leftover desserts in the fridge.

"Good evening," he says, leaning his shoulder on the doorframe. "Is it a bad time?"

She turns and smiles at him. "Not at all, Major. Do you need Dr Weir's dinner?"

He shakes his head. "No, ma'am. She went to the gym with Teyla . But it wouldn't hurt to drop a tray at her office in an hour or so. I can take it with me when I leave here."

She nods and motions for a young redhaired assistant to prepare the tray. "Did you want anything else, Sir?" she asks him, patiently waiting, her hands folded in front of her.

"Well, first of all, if you could please stop calling me that. I feel like you're addressing my father," he pouts.

"Sorry, Major. Bad habit," she apologizes. "You may go," she tells her assistants. "I'll finish here." They file out and say goodnight to them both.

The kitchen is now eerily quiet. "Well," she reminds him. "May I help you, Major Sheppard?"

"Oh, yes. I was wondering if you could grant me a couple minutes of your time and maybe offer me a glass of milk," he adds suddenly feeling self-conscious. She is indecipherable and he wonders if he's invading her private time and space.

"And a couple of cookies," she adds, her eyes crinkling.

A weight lifts off his chest. He gives her his trademark lopsided grin. "Yes, ma'am. That would be great. I mean, if it's not too much trouble."

She motions for him to sit at the table and warms him some milk in a pan with a pinch of nutmeg and a teaspoon of brown sugar then pours it in a glass and adds a plateful of freshly baked cookies, pushing both items gently towards him.

She goes to wash, rinse and then dry the pan and he feels awkward again. "Ain't you going to come and sit too?" She smiles and pours herself a cup of coffee and sits in front of him without a word.

He munches on his first cookie and hums with pleasure. Her eyes crinkle again, making him smile.

"What?" she finally demands.

"You smile with your eyes," he says, hiding a grin behind his glass as he lifts it to test the temperature of the milk.

She blushes just a little. "You suggested you wanted to talk to me," she points out.

"Oh, yeah, right. If you've got the time," he adds and for the first time he sees something that looks like a shadow cross her face.

"I've got all the time in the world, Major," she says. "How can I help?"

He feels awkward. "Well, see, first I want to apologize. It was rude of me to tell you I had never seen you when we obviously stepped through the gate together."

She laughs. "No need, really. I know people don't usually notice me and it's rather to my liking. Was there something else, Major?" she adds after a while, seeing how uneasy he looks.

"Well, Dr Weir has asked me to prepare for a mission and she'd like to include you for trading reasons," he starts.

She lifts her hand. "I know, Major. Dr Weir sent me a memo. Of course I will join your team if you need me there."

"Well, yeah. Here's the thing. I usually don't like taking civilians with us. Whatever can go wrong often goes wrong these days so I need to know the members of my team before we head off-world," he says, realizing as he utters the words how wrong it sounds. "Not that I don't trust you," he adds hurriedly.

She smiles. "I understand. But I thought you'd read my file," she remarks.

"I will. I just want to know first hand instead of reading about you. I damn well know a report or a few lines on a file cannot tell you who a person really is," he answers, frowning, thinking about his own run down with too many judgemental people.

She falls silent. He feels her relunctance at having to tell him about herself. "I'm not really good with people," she finally whispers, her eyes intent on her coffee, avoiding his gaze.

"Pot, meet Kettle," he quips, making her jerk up her head in surprise.

He grins at her. "OK, Louise, let's start with simple things." He looks towards the back of the room where her jacket with her nametag on it is hanging from a peg on the wall. "You're French, yes?" She nods silently, stirring her spoon in her cup relentlessly though she's not put sugar in it. "How did you end up here?"

She looks up. "I don't understand what you mean. Is there something wrong with me being French?"

He shakes his head and pouts. "No, absolutely not! I just don't know where to start so I was going for the obvious. Look, you don't have to answer this, OK? That was stupid of me," he says, standing. "It's late and you must want to catch some sleep."

"I got recruited by Dr McKay," she says, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes trained on him.

He sits down again. "Didn't Dr Weir recruit you?"

"Nope, Sheppard. I am the reason why this little miracle is here among us," he hears Rodney's smug voice from the doorway. She turns to him and beams. "Rodney! I thought you'd forgotten! I kept a whole batch for you," she says, standing. To John's utter dismay, Rodney gives her a one-armed hug before reaching for a mug and pouring himself coffee as if he owns the kitchen. He sits next to John and grins at him. "I knew you'd meet her someday. Isn't she wonderful?" he gushes before helping himself to one of John's cookies.

John raises his eyebrows. "You know the cook?" he quips.

Rodney shakes his head in disbelief then smiles fondly at Louise whose eyes are crinkling again. "Of course, I know her! I recruited her! Do you really think I would have let anyone else pick the most important person for this expedition?"

John laughs out loud. "You'd better say for your stomach. No offense, ma'am," he adds for Louise's sake.

She smiles at him and swats Rodney's hand as he's trying to snatch yet another cookie from John's plate and pushes a box towards him. "These are the Major's, Rodney. No stealing!" she teases him. It's the first time John sees her open up like this.

"So, how did you two meet?" he prods.

Rodney answers, his mouth full of cookie, coughs and downs the rest with a gulp of coffee. John rolls his eyes at Louise making her smile again. "She was in that culinary show when I was in New Brunswick a few days before I left for the outpost in Antartica. It was about being able to make do with whatever was in the kitchen at a given time. She was amazing. She adapted recipes and even invented some at a moment's notice and the jury was bluffed. When Elizabeth said they were looking for a cook who might have to adapt to a whole new, unknown environment, I told her _let me handle it_ ," he explains smugly.

"And Elizabeth let you," John sniggers.

"Of course, she did!" Seeing John's look of disbelief, he adds: "Well, I might have mentioned the fact food helped a lot with my mood swings."

John chuckles and turns to Louise. "So you let him drag you down here without a moment of hesitation?"

He sees the shadow cross her face again for just a brief moment. "There wasn't much I was going to miss about Earth so I thought it'd be nice to try something different."

He sniggers. "Different like in Koyla? Or the Wraith? Did you have a death wish?"

Rodney elbows him, seeing her raise abruptly to her feet and head towards the sink to wash her mug. John sees her back tense then relax after a few seconds. "I guess I was like most civilians on this expedition, Major – totally unaware of what was waiting for us out there," she says without turning to face him. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I do need some rest. Don't forget Dr Weir's tray on your way out," she adds, filling a travel mug of coffee for her and resting it next to the sugar and milk. She then folds her arms in front of her and waits impassively, her face a mask of patience.

Rodney winces and raises from his seat, then having taken his cup to the sink, drops a kiss on her hair before grabbing his box of cookies. "Thanks, hon', for the cookies," he says.

"You're welcome, Dr McKay. It's a pleasure to feed you," she graciously replies. John lifts his glass from the table but she stops him in his tracks. "Don't worry about that, Sir, I'll take care of it."

He cringes but relents. "Goodnight, Ma'am. Thanks for the snack," he says.

"Don't mention it. Goodnight, Sir."

He exits the mess hall, the tray balanced in his hands, and walks quietly next to McKay. When they're not within earshot anymore, McKay hisses at him as he heads towards his lab: "Way to go, Sheppard!"

"Yeah, I know, not my best move," he apologizes and sees Rodney roll his eyes at him in exasperation. "But in my defense, I was trying to break the ice there!"

Rodney sniggers. "Well, good luck now. If there's one thing you should know about Louise, apart from the fact she's the best cook I've ever met and she's a damn sweet lady, it's that she has walls so high it's a miracle when she lets them down even for a short while. And you just blew it there, big time! Now, you have a snowball's chance in hell she'll ever open up to you again."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3 – Pride and Prejudice_

 _For those of you who might think my Rodney is too kind and considerate with Louise and might be a little bit out of character, I have to say I've always had a soft spot for this character and I think even though he wears an almost constant scowl, I think it's just a front, like the outfit some people choose to impress their peers. In that, he's very much like Louise who keeps people at arms' length for reasons I'll disclose later and thus might be more at ease with her because they recognize in each other the same pattern._

 _A big thank you to the people who have reviewed, favorited or are following this story. It's a great incentive to post new chapters :)_

 _No beta so all errors are mine._

Teyla has gone with Hallin to give a head-start to the negotiations and things are going smoothly. "In fact, John, Teyla is saying we might be able to move the missions ahead, which would suit me down to the ground," Elizabeth informs him while she's having breakfast with him in the mess hall. "The supplies are down and we really need to find viable solutions. The Athosian have helped us so far and I know that in the near future they'll be great allies but right now, they've just begun planting on the mainland and won't have a crop for long. I think I don't have to convince you about how vital it is for the expedition we find a steady stream of food supplies in the very near future." He nods briefly. "I sent a memo to the cook," she adds, "telling her to start making her shopping list." Her eyes twinkle at the pun and he smiles back. "She was thorough in her demands, very efficient too as I received her list within the hour." She shows him the document on her tablet. "Teyla has told me that her allies are quite healthy and have a balanced diet. They do not seem to have any dietary deficiency. They even have a sweet tooth – her words, not mine," she chuckles.

"It seems everything is going smoothly," he notices, his eyes twinkling. "I'm sure you don't even need me there, Dr Weir. May I take a few days off to go surfing?" he banters.

She rolls her eyes at his antics. "I do hope, Major, that indeed, for a change, things will go smoothly, as you say, but I don't want to be taking any risks. I need you there with your team, plus Dr Beckett and Louise Léger."

He sighs. "Can I leave Rodney here, Dr Weir. He's really a pain in the ass these days," he pouts.

She crosses her arms on the table and leans toward him. "What did you do to him, John?"

He lifts his arms in mock surrender. "Now, that takes the cake! Come on, you know Rodney!" He fumbles with his tray, avoiding her piercing gaze.

"No puppy look, Major, will get you out of it this time," she playfully warns him. "Rodney told me." She raises an eyebrow and waits for his reply.

He brushes his hand through his ever unruly hair. "You do?" he asks sheepishly. She nods slowly. "Well, what can I say. You know me. Two left feet," he apologizes.

"Well, Major," she chides him, standing, "it's no reason not to fix things. We need Louise down there and we need her to focus. I don't want her feeling uncomfortable around you while she picks and chooses and negotiates."

"Won't you be coming along?" he asks, hopefully.

She shakes her head. "Too much to do here. Besides, one of us needs to stay, in case, and Louise knows what she's doing. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a pile of reports that need to be read by lunchtime." She walks briskly to the counter and drops her tray there then as she leaves, looks over her shoulder. "Fix it, Major. Asap."

He hangs his head. "Yes, Ma'am."

He has a debriefing with Teyla and Hallin as they return from the preliminary negotiations. "I assure you, Major, that everything went more than well," she informs him with a smile. Hallin looks pleased too. "Actually, they have thrived since the last time we went there. It was right before we met you. They are keeping their population number under tight control and haven't been culled for a very long time, as was the case for ourselves. And yet, they have developed quite a few techniques that have allowed for much better crop yields. They were thrilled to learn that Dr McKay as well as Dr Beckett would come along to help them both improve them further and provide more efficient remedies for their population." She nods, obviously pleased with the result of their work so far.

"They were also very interested in meeting your head cook. They said they could teach her how to cook their vegetables and in return acquire recipes of her own, if she's willing to share her secrets. I assured them she was a very nice lady and would certainly be impatient to meet them," Hallin adds with a smile.

"Ya know Louise?" John blurts out, befundled.

Hallin regards him in dismay. "Of course, I do, Major. She took care of all of us when we first arrived, making us feel at home, sharing her kitchen and recipes with us. The children love her and I have to say I have taken a strong liking to her fudge brownies."

John turns to Teyla. "Do you know her too?"

She shakes her head. "I only met her twice while bringing the children to her but never stayed. She seems like a nice lady, though."

It gets John thinking. "Teyla. As you know, Dr Weir has asked me to include Ms Léger in our team's mission to Elisia. Would you very much mind briefing her on what to expect?" he tentatively asks.

She nods. "Not at all, John. Do you want me to go now?"

He thinks about it then shakes his head. "No. Could you wait until they've finished for the day. She's usually more available at night. And if you do, could you ask her to send a tray to Dr Weir's office. She usually doesn't get down for dinner and has skipped too many meals lately."

She nods her approval. "Very well, John."

She drops by at his quarters in the evening, after her errand. He lets her in, surprised that she has gone to such length instead of calling him on his communicator. He wonders if anything is the matter. He asks her. "I wanted to tell you in person, Major. Our interview went quite well, actually. No need to worry about it. She's a very nice person, albeit quite reserved. She was still training one of her prep cooks when I came in and I have to say I had quite a good time. She let me participate. We made cookies," she says, beaming, and hands him a brown bag she's been holding by her side. "This is for you," she says with a smile. "Louise said I did well and didn't have to blush of the result. I asked her if she would allow me to bring you some and she said she was sure you'd be pleased."

"She did?" he replies, wincing.

"Well, yes," she replies, surprised. "She also said to tell you you needn't drop by in the evening if it makes you uncomfortable. She has given orders to have a tray sent to Dr Weir's office every evening and will make sure she is kept on a healthy diet."

"She said so?" he replies, embarrassed.

"She did, yes. If I may be bold enough to ask, Major, what happened between you two? She seemed as embarrassed as you are right now. You seem to be relunctant to be in contact with her and I don't see why. She's a nice person, really," she tells him.

"She is, yes. It's just that I don't know how to act around her," he confesses, making Teyla laugh.

"You sure don't have that problem with women, normally," she points out.

He winces. "I don't know about that, Teyla. I don't plan it. It just happens. But Louise, she's different. There's something about her that makes me uneasy and I can't put my finger to it."

"Have you inquired about her? What do you know? Is there something in her past that makes you uncomfortable?" she prods, worried.

"No, not at all. I did discuss her file with Dr Weir. There's really nothing there. That's the whole point. I think there's something in her past she's hiding from us," he explains, wincing again.

"Well, would your General O'Neill know about it?"

"I think he does. Actually, I think he's the one who has allowed for the file to only give vague details about her life the last year and a half or so in Canada and nothing prior to her arrival there," he explains then adds, knowing countries and continents on Earth are still a difficult idea for her to grasp: "She lived on a different continent and in a different country before that."

"Hence the different flag on her jacket," she adds. He nods. "Is this country at war with yours?"

He shakes his head, laughing at the concept. "No, not at all. It's not that. But there's definitely something that's not adding up, like her ability to speak my language with barely a trace of her own accent. I also wonder why she'd want to change lives at her age, whatever life she had before."

"Why don't you ask her?" she offers. He looks at her, amazed. "Yes, John. Maybe she's a little shy and didn't want everyone to know about her past. Maybe all it takes is asking her politely and promising you'll keep it to yourself if she doesn't want word to spread about it. Come on, it can't be that bad, can it?"

He thinks about it for a long moment. "Ever the voice of wisdom, Ms Emmagan," he finally says and she nods her thanks. "But see, I made a blunder the last time I saw her. I don't know how to repair the damage."

"Sometimes, all it takes, John Sheppard, is a sincere apology to set things right," she says before leaving his room.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4 – Atonement_

 _A special thank you to Guest 64 who took the time to review both my recently published stories. It's such a shame I couldn't answer you so here goes – you made my day (both times) and I hope you'll keep on reading and reviewing._

 _Thank you everyone for reading, reviewing, favoriting, telling me what you think, even and especially when I make mistakes so I can correct them._

John has been avoiding the mess hall as much as he could ever since the incident but knows he can't indefinitely. He sighs and gets in line to get breakfast the next morning. It's very early but she's there as usual, cooking bacon and ladling eggs on plates, flipping pancakes and stirring steamy oatmeal in pans. He knows she's seen him and sees her tense. He winces. He elbows Ford. "I'll get coffee and juice for us both," he says, ready to retreat to the other side of the buffet. "Get me a plate, will ya'?"

"Good morning, Major Sheppard," she says with a smile as she comes to stand in front of him, motioning to one of her cooks to take over. "What would you like this morning?" She rubs her hands nervously together then hides them behind her back.

Seeing her as nervous as him suddenly removes the wad of cotton he's felt in his throat ever since he got up and decided he couldn't beat about the bush any longer.

"Good morning, Ma'am," he answers, giving her a tense smile. "As a matter of fact, if you have a minute, I'd like to have a word in private," he tentatively asks, waiting for a rebuttal.

"Sure," she says, discarding her apron. "Follow me, Major."

He motions to Ford to proceed and follows her to the kitchens. She is standing in the middle, a hand on the table, looking very uncomfortable. Only a couple of people are working in the kitchen, what with the early hours. "Do you want me to..." she offers, motioning towards them, offering to send them away.

He shakes his head. "No, it's OK. Actually, if I was sure you wouldn't mind, I had told you in the mess hall. Look, Ma'am, I'm sorry I was so rude the other night. It was only clumsiness on my part. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings," he apologizes hurriedly, shuffling his feet. He drops his gaze.

"And I'm sorry I reacted that way, Major. I should have sucked it up," she whispers back, turning beet red.

He looks up and seeing her utter embarrassment, takes a step forward, holding up his hand. "No, no, please, it was my fault and mine alone. I'm so very sorry we started on the wrong foot."

She calms down and holds out her hand. "Why don't we start all over again then? My name is Louise, nice to meet you, John."

He beams at her and takes her small hand in his much bigger one, squeezing it gently. "Nice to meet you too, Louise."

She retrieves her hand after a few seconds that feel like an eternity and smiles. "Now, what can I get you for breakfast, John?" she asks one more.

"You told me the first time we met you knew what people liked," he teases her, "so I'll let you be the judge of it," he says, winking.

She laughs out loud. "OK, let me think," she drawls, "what about some French toast?" she offers and sees his eyes light up instantly.

"How did you know?"

"I saw your eyes grow wide once I made some not long ago for a Sunday brunch," she replies.

"But it's not Sunday," he quips.

"Let's make it a special treat to celebrate the breaking of the ice," she retorts, winking. "Sit," she orders, pointing at a free spot at the table. "It'll only take a few minutes."

He complies and she offers him a cup of coffee and glass of juice while he waits and chats with her. "Have you had breakfast or will you join me?" he asks.

"I had breakfast a long time ago," she says, turning to him briefly. "I get up very early. But," she glances at the clock, "it's almost time for my elevenses," she quips and sets a plate in front of him before grabbing a a cup of coffee and sitting in front of him.

He laughs. "Big fan of Tolkien, I gather."

"Big fan of any book that I can lay my hands on. Actually, make it any readable material," she answers.

"Really?" he prods, tasting his first forkful of toast and humming in pleasure.

She laughs at his reaction. "Really. Don't leave a box of cereals sitting around. I told you, I can't help myself!"

He chuckles. "Wow, Dr Weir has serious competition here! Ever read War and Peace?" he asks.

She shakes her head. "Nope. Saw a TV movie though that was pretty good. It's on my to do-list."

"I'll lend it to you when I'm finished," he offers.

"Yeah, I'd like that..."

There's suddenly a lull in the conversation and he sees her unease slowly resurfacing. He knows she's made a huge effort there and he doesn't want to lose what they've so painstakingly acquired.

"This is really good. Rodney was right. Food is paramount to our expedition. I can't tell you how many times a good meal has done more to my morales than anything else. Food at Mc Munro was horrendous," he confides, dropping his voice and leaning towards her. "And I'm not even going to mention Afghanistan..."

She smiles at him. "Well, John, as long as I get a steady supply of a little bit of everything for my kitchen, you'll never have to complain." She pauses then adds, on second thought: "I met Teyla. Hallin had told me about her. She made a great impression on me. And we had such a good time cooking together. I had never thought I'd ever laugh that much again." She looks away wistfully.

"You did, didn't you?" he says, proud of Teyla for helping her open up that way. "Well, you made a great impression on her too... and on me! Thanks for the cookies, by the way. They gave me the courage to come and talk to you today," he confesses, which makes her eyes crinkle, warming his heart. "And Teyla did have fun learning how to make them," he adds.

"I could teach you," she blurts out and immediately blushes, retreating in her shell.

"I'd love that," he answers, patting her hand.

"You would?" she asks, befundled.

"Yeah. It's good therapy, I'm sure."

"It is," she replies, suddenly excited. "I mean..." she says, realizing she might have said too much.

"Yes, tell me," he prods, tilting his head.

"When I am upset, I cook," she explains. "I don't know why but it is soothing."

"I play the guitar," he retorts. "Or run... Or have a sparring session with Teyla."

"Doesn't she meditate too?" she wonders.

He pouts. "Well, yes she does but I don't like it that much."

She laughs at his embarrassment. "I can connect to that. I went to yoga once. Spent my time rehearsing the moves in my head. Couldn't relax. I much prefer to dance," she adds then clamps her mouth shut, realizing she's giving too much already.

He grins and points at her. "We'll have to discuss this some other time, young lady, because I have an inventory to make in the armory but don't you think for one second I'm letting you off the hook," he quips. She smiles and nods. He drains his coffee and stands. "I'd like to spend more time with you but I'm already late and I gather you still have a lot of work to do," he says as he puts his dishes in the sink. "Thank you for the breakfast and the company, Louise."

"You're most welcome," she replies. "I take it I'll see you tomorrow for the mission's briefing?"

He nods. "Or maybe earlier. Can I drop by tonight?"

"You don't have to if this concerns Dr Weir's dinner, Sir," she answers.

He smiles at her, trying not to recoil from the formal address. "Yes, Teyla told me about it. Thank you so much for taking care of her. I will indeed have a lot of work in preparation for the mission and I don't want to bother you if you do too," he states, not wanting to push it. He doesn't know what it is about her but the more he talks to her, the more he suspects that she's had more than her share of worries and pain and that she can't help it when her walls go back up on their own accord. "See you tomorrow then, Louise."

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter 5 – Cinnamon rolls_

 _Hoping whoever is out there, reading this story, will keep on doing so. I only mean to please ;)_

 _I know my character is complex and might seem frustrating and awkward at times. I hope you'll like her nonetheless._

She is early the next morning for the meeting and very nervous. She's awoken even earlier than usual to cook breakfast before heading to the conference room. She's never been there before. _Only important people do,_ she reflects _. It's gonna be so awkward. I wonder if I give them a precise list, maybe they'll allow me to stay here._

"Good morning, Ms Léger." She should have known. The leader of the expedition is reknown for always being very punctual, setting a strict example for the rest of the expedition.

"Good morning, Ma'am," she replies politely, her hands fidgeting at her sides. She doesn't like to leave her work area. Even the mess hall doesn't make her comfortable except at night when no one is there anymore. She's impressed to meet Elizabeth. Of course, she's seen her before but always from a distance.

Elizabeth motions for her to come and sit at the table. She joins her but sits a reasonable distance away. She figures the seats next to her are reserved for the permanent members of the team. Elizabeth smiles but respects her choice. "I'm glad you could come in early. I wanted to thank you for agreeing to join John's team on this expedition," she tells her. Louise nods quietly. "I also wanted to thank you for feeding me so well." She grins at her.

Louise blushes ever so slightly and hides her hands under the table. "It's OK, Ma'am. Actually, it was Major Sheppard's idea. I only carried out his orders." Her voice trails off and Elizabeth can see this was a mistake. She seems to be embarrassed by the attention. _Nice change from Rodney's behavior though,_ she reflects _,_ smirking inwardly.

She nods her understanding and folds her hands on the table as the members of the team start filing in the room. John is last and sits next to Dr Weir. He has brought a mug of coffee and a cinnamon roll for her whose aroma is filling the room, making people's heads turn toward their leader who thanks him with a smile.

"Hey", Rodney protests. "Where did you get that?"

John shrugs. "Mess hall," he says, rolling his eyes.

"There wasn't any this morning when I dropped by for my breakfast," Rodney protests indignantly.

"I'm sorry, Rodney, my fault," Louise answers him sheepishly. "I prepared them last night but I needed them fresh so I cooked them this morning before leaving. They were probably still cooling on the racks when you dropped by. I'll get you one," she says, standing. Rodney beams at her.

Elizabeth looks at her pointedly. "Ms Léger, please sit down. Rodney is not a child. He can wait until the meeting is over to get one himself," she orders. "And no whining, Dr McKay," she adds, seeing him ready to protest. He clamps his mouth shut relunctantly, making Lieutenant Ford snigger. Louise sits down cautiously. Teyla smiles at her reassuringly. Dr Weir might be curt when needed but she's a gentle woman and Louise has nothing to fear from her. She'll need to explain that as she sees her new friend is peeved by the whole thing. The mission will be a good time to have a little chat.

"Now, people, if you don't mind, I'd like to start the reunion," Elizabeth says. "Teyla has already sent you memos of what Hallin and herself have done while on recon. Maybe if they want to add something or if you have questions?" she offers, her eyes sweeping the people present in the room.

"Yes, Elizabeth," Dr Beckett answers. "If I may?" She nods. Louise has never met Dr Beckett before in person. She avoids hospitals like the devil and has not had to drop by there yet. She keeps a small medical kit in the pantry that allows her to fix cuts and bruises as well as her headaches though they've been so recurrent since she's arrived, she might have to go and see him soon. She winces but tries to concentrate on what is being said. "I'd like to know how we're going to work with the new addition to our team," he says, smiling gently at her, making her blush. She could slap herself for being so awkward. She didn't use to be that way but she can't kid herself – she'll probably never be again the person she used to be.

"Actually, Carson," Dr Weir replies, "Teyla and I talked about it and we think that, since this mission revolves almost exclusively around the pressing issue our food supplies, we agreed that Ms Léger should be the one to make the decisions – except for the military part, of course," she adds, nodding at John who nods back.

"Stop gaping," John teases Louise who looks befundled. "Told ya'. Food is the lifeblood of the expedition."

"I agree," says Rodney, surprising everyone.

"You agree with what? That food is indeed the most important thing in your life?" John jokes, laughing out loud. "We all know that around this table and Louise probably more than anyone else!"

Rodney rolls his eyes, exasperated by his teammate's antics. "I agree with Louise making the decisions. She's smart, she's ressourceful and she knows what she wants, right?" he says, turning towards her.

"I... I, yes, Dr McKay, yes, I know what I want," she answers, avoiding pointedly the rest of his tirade.

"Well then, it's settled," Dr Weir announces. "You'll share decisions with Teyla and John. Hallin will come as backup for the negociations, Dr Beckett will work on samples from the food Ms Léger chooses to make sure they're safe, healthy and nutritious and Lieutenant Ford will come along as well. Dr Beckett, Dr McKay, did you find anything that might be of help to the population of Elisia that would mean we have something to trade for the food they'll agree to supply?"

"We need to be there to assess the situation but Teyla and Hallin have already given us a few ideas," Rodney replies, looking at Carson for confirmation.

The latter nods vehemently. "Yes, I think we can be of great help to those people."

"Well then, people," Dr Weir says, her eyes sweeping the room one last time, giving a look of encouragement to her team, "you have a go. Teyla," she adds as the latter raises from her chair, "you're in charge of helping Ms Léger gear up for the mission."

Teyla nods and smiles at the leader. "Come on," she tells her new friend who stands slowly. This is it. She's going off-world and is scared as hell. The mission rests on her shoulders and expertise and she doesn't even know half of the people she's going to work with.

"We'll see you in thirty minutes in the gate room," John calls after them before they leave.

Rodney stands too but a look from his leader tells him the meeting is not over. "Just a word, Rodney. I cannot emphasize enough how important – vital, I should say – this mission is. This being said, I also entrust you with Ms Léger. Teyla and John have recently pointed out how reserved and lonely our cook seems to be. She doesn't have many friends..." She lifts an eyebrow at Rodney who's getting ready to cut her in, "I'm not finished, Rodney and I do know that you have befriended her somehow," she says, making him flinch as he realizes that he's never encountered Louise outside her kitchen. "I also know from Hallin that she has been extremely kind to the Athosian people when they first arrived here, being one of the very few to never question their integrity. Yet, she's remained apart from the rest of the expedition. I would very much like you all to take the opportunity of this mission to make her feel at ease. Help her connect with the Elisians as well. She might be scared to talk to them, let alone lead the negotiations with them. Help her in that without ever making her think you're taking over." They all nod. "And John," she adds, turning to him, "don't you dare let her out of your sight if Teyla or another member of the team doesn't take over. I want her to feel protected at all times."

"Yes, Ma'am," he replies. "You can trust me with that."

"I know I can," she replies with a grin. "Now go gear up, you all!"

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter 6 – Offworld_

They've been on the planet for over an hour now. Teyla and Hallin have made the introductions and the elders of the village they are meeting with today have offered them to take on a tour of their vegetables patches, fields and orchards before dinner is ready to be served later during the day. The celebration will be a way for them to show off what can be done with the food they grow and process.

They walk slowly, letting them admire the landscape, and tell them all about the different plants they grow and what they do with them as well as their agrarian techniques. Rodney makes notes on his tablet while Louise listens intently and John, who is walking right next to her, can almost see the cogs turning in her brain, a smile of content often appearing on her face as she is sampled and offered different vegetables, fruit and herbs as they walk.

"Like it here?" he asks, leaning towards her, seeing how she seems to thrive outside even though he was more than worried at first when she stepped through the gate, her uneasy look scurrying around. She nods silently. "They seem to be a decent, peaceful people. It's a nice change," he adds. He sees her glance at the P-90 he's cradled on his front with one arm while he's turning a blade of grass in the other, obviously relaxed. He laughs. "No need to worry, Ma'am, it's just standard procedure."

"Still..." she answers tentatively.

He shakes his head. "Never shot a gun in your life, uh?" She shakes her head. "You need to learn. I'm working on a protocole with Dr Weir right now. She's not very happy about it herself but she knows – given the circumstances – that all civilians on Atlantis must learn to defend themselves. See, you'll learn soon enough," he adds, winking and chuckles when he sees her look of apprehension. "Don't worry," he adds, "I'll be there every step of the way when you do."

She gives him a shy smile. "I would prefer not to," she replies.

"Not your call, Ma'am," he answers more briskly than he intended.

They are silent the rest of the way and he curses himself for not being more diplomatic. She is keeping at a safe distance from him and when they arrive and she's offered to take a look at the kitchens, scurries along, only too happy to have Dr Beckett replace him.

Carson smiles at her encouragingly as they enter a large room where the table is being laid and continue on to the back of the building and into the kitchen of gargantuan proportions that sports a majestic fireplace worthy of any major castle from the Renaissance. "He's not a violent man, our Major Sheppard, you know," he says and she knows it's connected to what John told her earlier. "He just knows that desperate situations call for desperate measures. I was like you before my first missions but you have to understand, love. Here it's a very different world than what you're probably used to."

She nods. "I guess so, Dr Beckett, but sometimes, he makes me uneasy," she confesses.

"You'll get used to him and he'll get used to you," he answers encouragingly. "And I'm Carson, by the way." She nods again but averts her eyes. These people tend to act like a close-knit family, most of the time calling each other by their first name and it makes her uncomfortable.

She's afraid they might call her stuck up but she's not used to that anymore, interracting with people but most of all, it worries her that these last few days have shattered her well-established routine of solitude. She's out of her comfort zone now and it scares her because the last thing she's wanted ever since becoming who she is now is to have a family, care for people again and then cry if she loses them and she knows they'll lose people to the Wraith and Genii and whatever other ugly thing is out there. They already have. It would be too much to take. She can't do that again.

She's borrowed Rodney's tablet and is currently trading recipes with the local cooks, taking pictures of the dishes when they're ready but also of the ingredients needed. One of the representatives for the village follows her around, making notes on the ingredients she likes or says she might need for her recipes. He listens with interest as she points out similarities between certain products and those she can find on Earth. There's that round-shaped nut that she realizes as she's offered to taste it she might be able to use to replace almonds or hazelnuts in her desserts. Many herbs ressemble the ones she knows so she asks Carson to test them. He doesn't find anything that might point to toxins so he gives his go ahead. The representative is so pleased so far with the trading that he offers to give her a sample of each herb for herself and quite a few similar medicinal plants for Beckett that they might be able to cultivate on Atlantis itself. She's very exited at the prospect of tending to her own garden. Beckett smiles at the simple pleasure she seems to be having today.

He doesn't know her but she seems to be a far cry from the person depicted by Dr Weir. She looks at ease in this foreign environment but he remembers she comes from a different country too and has already had to adapt at least twice to a new place and a new culture. He figures that helps.

She is talking animatedly with the cooks and prep cooks that are scurrying around to have dinner ready on time.

Another representative approaches him and asks him about the medical improvements he could bring them. When he lifts his head a minute later, she's disappeared from his line of vision. He apologizes for the interruption and leaves the room but all he can see is people strolling in the city square on one side and fields of what ressembles corn on the other. He panics and calls Sheppard on his radio. "Sheppard, come in."

"Major, I'm sorry, I think I've lost her," he says hurriedly.

"Where are you?" Sheppard barks in his radio.

He cringes. "Still at the banquet hall."

"Will be right there. Sheppard out." John is standing on the other side of the village with Hallin, talking to a group of people. He leaves Hallin and runs to the city square, calling Teyla and Ford to join him there asap. Beckett is apologetic to say the least but Sheppard doesn't mince his words. Didn't Elizabeth specify to never let her out of their sight? Then again, he curses himself for not double-checking every few minutes and leaving Beckett in charge of her.

"Have you tried her radio?" Ford asks, remaining cooler than his boss but then again, it's not him who'll get his ass kicked by a certain Doctor if they get back to Atlantis without the chef. He sees the scowl on Sheppard's face. "Never mind," he apologizes. "Stupid idea."

Sheppard lifts his radio from his pocket, not bothering to reply. "Ms Léger, this is Sheppard, please respond." The radio only receives static. He growls and Beckett cringes again. "Louise, damn it, it's John, if you hear me, can you damn answer that. We're worried sick here," he yells in his radio.

"Louise here. Sorry Major, I didn't know how to turn it on," she finally replies sheepishly after what seems like an eternity.

He lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Everyone sighs around him. "Sweetie," he answers more sedately, trying to atone for his previous anger flare. "Where are you?"

"I walked to the orchard with the village representative to show him what fruit we'd be interested in... I'll walk back towards you."

"Don't you move. I'll be right there. Sheppard out." He turns to the others. "Stay here. I'll be right back. Ford, with me." They walk briskly to the edge of the village. Sheppard is still fuming when they see them from afar.

"Sir, doesn't it look like he's trying to chat her up," Ford fumbles for words, embarrassed. The man has picked a flower from one of the trees and is pushing it behind her ear. She is looking everywhere but at him and is shuffling her feet uneasily.

John goes ballistic. "Hey, you, over there! Get your hands off her," he orders, grabbing his P-90.

"Sir, that won't be necessary, I think," Ford says as his commander takes it into a run. "I think she's OK."

They reach them a few seconds later and John puts himself between her and the man who looks at him in alarm. "I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't know she was spoken for. You didn't seem to be together when you arrived through the portal. I didn't mean any harm," he apologizes.

"No, no, he's not with me," she starts saying but John turns to her and frowns, making it clear she should shut up. She does and looks at her feet. Of all the things that could have happened, being caught by Atlantis' 2IC in a position that might suggest she'd had an inappropriate behavior! She's mortified.

"What the lady means is that she isn't yet but will soon be. Same, same, see?" Sheppard replies, silently begging her to play along. "Now, if you'll excuse us, we're going to head back to the village for the banquet." He nods curtly, along with Ford and they walk away with her, each man on one side.

"Did he touch you?" John can't help asking, "I mean apart from the whole flower in the hair thing," he adds, sneering.

She blushes. "No, Sir. He just..." She fumbles for words.

"Tried to woo you?" Ford suggests, trying very hard not to snigger but failing poorly.

Sheppard glares at him. "Did he, Louise? Or was there more?" he growls.

She shakes her head. He sighs in relief then turns to Ford: "Get your butt to the village. We'll join you shortly."

Ford knows he needs to have a private conversation with Louise. She's mortified enough as it is, no need for someone she doesn't know yet to hear it when she's going to get a licking because she is, for sure, knowing his boss. He nods and squeezes her hand gently. "I'm glad you're safe," he simply says before jogging to the village.

She stops and looks up at John. "You're going to bawl me out, aren't you?" she says in a small voice.

"Yes, I was, but there's no point if you punish yourself by looking so miserable. Look, I agree with Aiden. I'm relieved nothing bad happened to you but you can't be so fickle with your own safety again. From now on, you will not leave my side until we return to Atlantis. Understood?"

She can hear he's trying to keep calm for her own sake. "I'm sorry," she says, "and I'm sorry too you had to pretend to be my fiancé," she adds, shamefaced.

"Yeah, about that... I wouldn't like to have to write it in my report so I know Aiden will mum the word and I'd appreciate if you did too," he asks.

"No problem, Major. I'm not very proud of myself here so I wouldn't mind not having it mentioned either," she agrees. They walk in silence for a minute then she adds: "I don't think Dr Weir would like to hear about it either..."

He tilts his head, pondering his answer. "About you and me? No, she won't mind. The rules of non-fraternization do not apply to military and civilians, only to military."

"That's not what I mean, Major," she says, uncomfortable. "I didn't mean we could because we won't. Tell me if I'm wrong but neither you nor I would ever look at each other that way, right? I only meant these rules you're talking about, they don't apply to you and her either and I already told Rodney calling you Kirk could be hurtful to more than you but I'm afraid he never listens."

She sees him startle but he chooses to ignore her remark and go for his usual playful part. "So, as I gather, I might have made a mistake when I stopped that impromptu courting earlier..." he teases her.

She looks horrified. "Hell, no, Major. I'm sure glad you intervened when you did. If I had known he had ulterior motives, I would never have agreed to come with him."

"Only my point of view, of course, but he is not bad-looking if I recall properly," he teases her, finding the occasion too good not to try and know a little more about her.

"He's not," she replies. "I would be lying if I told you the contrary. I'm sure he won't have any problem finding his match."

"So you're spoken for," he concludes, raising an eyebrow expectantly.

She shakes her head, her eyes suddenly lost in the distance. "No Sir and neither do I wish to be, ever," she adds as they reach the village square.

As they have dinner that night with the village elders, John notices she does not take part in the conversation so easily as when she arrived. It seems she is galaxies away, not paying attention to the food she pushes around on her plate. Hallin remarks it to John, leaning towards him: "She is worried," he says.

John shakes his head. "More like sad, waddling in her pain, but trying hard not to show it," he replies, seeing her answer a question asked by one of the elders. Rodney is on his other side. "Did Louise ever share anything private with you? She hints at things but never opens up. It's frustrating."

Rodney sniggers. "Well, you're one to talk, Mr I scurry along every time someone talks about my past! You and her are two peas in a pod when it comes to that. And no, indeed, she never said anything and I never asked. I let her talk about what makes her happy, not push her to reminisce about what makes her sad," he points out wickedly.

"And what makes her happy, Rodney?" John teases him but already knows the answer.

"Hey, Léger," he calls her from the other side of the table. "Have you found any interesting new food you might want to experiment on?"

She looks surprised first but then the subject is too tempting. "Fruit that ressemble apples, Sir. I think we could bake them."

"...make apple pie," Rodney adds, grinning.

"...apple sauce," Beckett says, smiling.

"...apple crumble," Ford replies.

She smiles wistfully. "Ah yes, I poach the apples slices in a sweet, caramelized syrup. It's delicious," she tells her neighbor, the leader of the village.

His eyes twinkle. "It sounds enticing. Surely, my dear, it's plain obvious both our nations can benefit from this trading negociation."

"And us, too, Sir," Ford adds. "I didn't think we had a cordon bleu on our expedition. Now I do, Ma'am," he warns her, "I'm never gonna leave your kitchen."

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

_Chapter 7 – Learning the rules_

 _Someone wrote to me that my story or character – I didn't really get which, as the review was sharp and carried a great amount of hatred and disdain – had and I quote "all the earmarks and stench of a Mary Sue." That it was badly written..._

 _I appreciate constructive criticism (the one that will allow me to live and learn) but certainly not the spiteful kind as it brings nothing, especially not to the writer of that review who will appear as a fool at best._

 _This being said, I have reread my story carefully. I might not be a professional literary critic, editor or writer but I have studied literature in college. My story is not perfect and if you find mistakes or wish me to improve it, do tell me. My character is not perfect either nor is she completely flawed. She is indeed mysterious but what would storytelling be without a little bit of mystery?_

 _Last but not least, I write for myself, first and foremost. I only post my stories to share them with others as they do too, not expecting anything in return. So, I will keep posting that story as long as the inspiration keeps flowing my way. Now, on with the show!_

They get back with crates of fruit, almond-like nuts and baskets of vegetables offered to them by the village as a promise of alliance. They've offered them basic medicine for fever and infections in return, as well as blueprints for improvements to their mills and irrigation systems made by Rodney. She feels relieved to return to her kitchen, sorting out the gifts they've received, excited to get to work and experiment on new recipes.

"Ms Léger, this is Dr Weir. When you have a minute, can you drop by my office, please?" she hears on the intercom and sighs. Her hands are already buried in dough for her fruit pies so she taps her intercom with her wrist and relunctantly answers. "Yes, Ma'am, will do as soon as I'm finished here."

Elizabeth bites on her lower lip, making John's eyes twinkle. She's adorable when pissed. He tilts his head at her from the other side of her desk, begging her to be patient. She rolls her eyes at him. "That would be very nice of you. Thank you. And remind me when you get here to tell you the protocole when anyone returns from an off-world mission," she says curtly, ignoring John's glare.

Louise cringes and stops kneading the dough. She knows she's normally supposed to check in the infirmary but Beckett was with her and said she needn't do it this time so what? And suddenly it dawns on her they normally have a defriefing right after that. It's her first time off-world and she already screwed it up! She removes the last from the dough clinging to her hands and motions to one of the cooks to take her place while she washes her hands and discards her apron.

John stands from his chair and pouts. "What did you say before we left, Ma'am?" he taunts Elizabeth. "Oh yeah, right! That we should make her feel more comfortable! Or was it less? I don't really remember," he mocks her.

She glares at him. "John," she warns him.

He leans on her desk with both hands and looks her in the eyes. "I swear, Dr Weir, if you spooked her..."

"Please, don't,"he hears a small voice plead behind him. He straightens and turns. She's standing in the doorway, her arms wrapped around her middle. "I'm sorry, Dr Weir, I am, and it's all my fault. Please don't fight because of me." Her bottom lip is trembling. "I got over-excited and headed for my kitchen, forgetting the protocole. I promise never to forget, ever again," she offers sheepishly.

John approaches her and takes her arm gently making her enter the office. "Don't worry. She growls a lot but never bites, not even me," he says, winking at his boss who shakes her head and chuckles. "John, you're the most infuriating 2IC in two galaxies," she chides him playfully. "Now I'm sure you have plenty of things to do so get out," she orders him.

"If you promise not to chew on our cook here, I will," he replies cockily.

She raises her right hand. "I swear. And John," she adds, seeing him leave, "bring me dinner tonight, will you? I'm anxious to see what you've brought back from Elisia."

She motions for Louise to sit. "John is right, I was too harsh on you and I apologize for that," she says, smiling at her.

"It's OK, really, Ma'am, I should have respected protocole and I understand you need to show an impartial and strict front. I do, really," Louise replies with a shy smile then falls silent. Uncomfortable silence settles between them. "So," Elizabeth finally says,trying to break the ice, "I asked you to come because I want you to tell me about your visit to Elisia."

Louise looks at her surprised. "I don't see what I could tell you that isn't already in my report."

"Your impressions, Ms Léger. Feelings are not something we usually write in reports but since I wasn't there, I need you to be my eyes and ears. Is this a sound alliance?" she elaborates.

"I'm flattered you're asking for my opinion, Ma'am, but really, apart from telling you we now have access to an extraordinary variety of fruit, vegetables and even cereals, I can't tell you more, I'm afraid."

"Let me explain. I just saw Dr Beckett and Dr McKay. To meet the terms of the treaty, we're going to need to send quite a few of our scientists and marines to help them improve their manufactures. As for medicine, we will have to part with quite an amount of medical supplies. I need to know that it will be worth it, that's all."

Louise ponders her answer. "Well, if you need my personal opinion, I'll tell you this. I had no real experience in feeding that amount of people before I came here. I was hired by General O'Neill and Dr McKay and when they did, I was open about it. I worked for a few weeks with the SGC's cook before leaving but nothing had prepared me for the issues we have here. We are cut off from Earth and need to be self-sufficient in everything but I can imagine the most pressing issue is food. I have tried to manage it as best I could and please people in those first crucial weeks when we arrived. Now I have the benefit of hindsight, I have to say we cannot go on like we've done until now. If we want to keep the same diet we've given the two hundred plus members of the expedition, and I'm not even including the Athosians now they've become self-sufficient, I'd say we do need Elisia as our allies. You won't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs, Ma'am," she adds, frowning.

Elizabeth is dwindling on her pad, thinking hard about what she's just heard. She knew of course but being told in not some many words is another thing. "Will that be sufficient?" she asks.

Louise shakes her head. "No, Ma'am, not by a far cry. One, as I've understood, no planet in the galaxy can claim to be free from the Wraith so we shouldn't count on only one source of supply and two, it won't be enough anyway. Those people have a much simpler diet than ours, made of fruit, vegetables, bread and cheese for the most part. They hunt and fish, yes, but reserve the meat and fish for those who need them the most or for exceptional occasions," she explains and Elizabeth realizes that, though she seems to be a very reserved, even shy person, she must have had her ears wide open.

She nods. "Quite like the Athosians," she answers and Louise nods too.

"Yes, Ma'am. Quite like most societies on Earth before the advent of modern society. If you allow me, I intend to slightly shift our diet in the weeks to come to introduce more simpler and healthier items. I know it sounds harsh but very soon, anyway, we won't have processed food left at our disposal." She lifts her hand, seeing Elizabeth ready to intervene. "But I want you to know that I will do my best to serve wholesome and savory meals."

Elizabeth chuckles. "Rodney is going to have a fit," she remarks.

Louise shakes her head, chuckling too. "Don't worry, Ma'am. I don't intend to starve anyone, neither do I wish to frustrate them. With what I found on Elisia, I promise to make desserts that melt in your mouth, if only I have the time to experiment on them."

"Well, shoo then," Elizabeth tells her playfully. "You have a go, Ms Léger. And don't beat yourself over it. You might not have a lot of experience as you said but you have already proven very ressourceful to the expedition." Louise nods silently and stands, relieved the interview is over. "Oh, and, Ms Léger, next time you feel like flirting with an alien eligible man, make sure you tell Major Sheppard first. You gave him a fright," she adds wickedly.

Louise blushes. "He told you?" It's not a question.

Elizabeth laughs. "He tells me everything," she says, smiling fondly and Louise smiles back. She knows those two might not know it yet but she knows. There's much more than meets the eye, something that in spite of all she's been through or maybe because of it, warms her heart.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

_Chapter 8 – Guinea Pig_

There's a huge storage room for the stocks two levels below the kitchen area that actually looks more like the inside of a cathedral and makes her feel like it too every time she goes down there through the transporter.

Once she's returned to the kitchen after her meeting with Dr Weir and finished putting the fruit pies in the ovens, she leaves her staff to finish preparing dinner and heads downstairs to assess the stocks. Aiden Ford is waiting for her, a huge grin on his boyish face. He salutes her with two fingers. "Ma'am, Major Sheppard ordered me to come and help you so I'm all yours for the end of the afternoon. What can I do to help?"

He seems so eager to please she can't help smiling at him fondly. It's like when the Athosian children arrived on Atlantis and her heart melted at seeing them so desperate. In a sense she is glad they have not remained on Atlantis. She is fond of them really, actually too fond of them. She doesn't want to let anyone near her heart and Aiden is so endearing that she doesn't know if it's a good thing after all that Major Sheppard sent him to help her. She knows he's trying hard to make her feel she belongs here but she'd much prefer he were indifferent, like Colonel Sumner had been. His disdain or lack of concern, she never really knew which one it was, was much preferable to all the attention she's received these last few days.

She takes a deep breath and looks around. "Well, if you don't mind, I'd like to rearrange the stocks and make sure nothing is left to rot in the back. We can't afford to squander anything." She switches on her tablet and follows him around as he works with a couple of marines who've been sent down too. They work quickly and very efficiently, she notices, not minding following her orders. She's grateful they focus on the work and don't dally but seeing the stocks from up close is quite unnerving. She knows the place was meant for it from the start and in its heydays, Atlantis must have had many more people to feed if they can trust the logs they've been able to access. Nevertheless, it's an unnerving sight to see such a huge place filled with so little. She doesn't know it but Aiden follows her nervous gaze as she looks around and makes a mental note to report it to Sheppard.

When they're through, she thanks everyone and offers them to follow her. Hard work calls for a hearty reward, her granny used to say. She sits them all at the long island top and offers them a piece of the pies that are currently cooling on the racks in the middle of the table. "These are for tonight," she informs them with a grin. "I was wondering if you would agree to taste them before I send them to the mess hall?"

"We'll be happy to comply again, any time, Ma'am," they thank her as they deposit their plates in the sink and file out of the room, a huge grin on their faces. They're no more than kids. She could almost be their mom and her heart goes out to them. She can't hug them and tell them everything will be OK, because she knows it won't, but she can at least feed them well and offer comfort food any time the stocks allow for it. She smiles at them and nods. Ford lags behind. "My grandmother makes pies like these, Ma'am. I look forward to what you can do with the rest of what we brought back."

She pats his shoulder and chuckles. "Yes, Lieutenant, you can be my guinea pig from now on," she promises as he leaves her kitchen.

John finds her on the mess hall's balcony that night. She's enjoying the cool breeze that is blowing over the city and looking in the distance as the stars light one by one in the deep blue sky.

"Hey," he greets her, handing her a cup of the steaming Athosian tea Teyla has prepared.

"Hey, yourself," she says, her hands wrapping around the cup, enjoying the warmth that instantly spreads through her skin. "Thanks."

He nods and remains silent for a few minutes, sipping at his own coffee. "Ford told me you looked worried this afternoon," he mentions in passing, waiting for her reaction or lack of it, thereof. He sighs. "Louise..."

She turns to him then goes to sit on the bench facing the ocean and he follows her. "I... I wish I had hidden it better. This is my responsibility," she says despondently.

"Hey, it's not. It's everyone's! I know it's not directly mine but if there are missions that are more pressing than others, then yes it's mine too! Do you fear we've used too much already and we need to focus on finding more allies to trade for food?" he asks.

"You're very blunt, for an American," she remarks, making him chuckle.

"I thought we, Americans, were considered as being the kings of bluntness!" he jokes.

"No, you're not. You're the kings of politically correct conversations and this, Major, is not one of those!" she informs him, chuckling too, in spite of the importance of the matter.

"Well then, I might have – what? - a tinge of Frenchness in me?" he banters, bumping his shoulder against hers, making her laugh.

She falls silent then masters the courage to speak again. "Yes, I'm worried, Major. I told Dr Weir about it." He nods, making her know she has told him in return. "I should be celebrating this new alliance but I know it's not enough – not by far! So if I have any say in the matter, yes, I think it's a very pressing matter that we find other trading partners. I know Dr McKay won't agree with me," she adds hurriedly. "I can understand you need to lay your hands on ZPMs and anything that might help us protect our city but right now, if I don't get my hands on more food ressources, we have a big problem. I told Dr Weir about it too and I gather, she told you, yes?"

He nods and then falls silent too, musing. "You said the Elisians offered you herbs and plants you intend to grow here in the city..." She nods, her ears wide open, he sees. "Couldn't we grow things right here? Maybe raise, I don't know, chickens or something?" He rolls his eyes then says: "Forget about it. This is ridiculous!"

She pats his shoulder. "No, it's not. Actually, it's not at all. It wouldn't solve everything but if you can find me room for that, I might spare a few of my own staff to raise chickens and maybe grow hygroponic plants – tomatoes and the like. It won't be as good as fresh stuff grown in the sun but still..." She sighs. "I wish I could work with a botanist," she muses.

He grins at her wickedly. "Actually, sweetheart," he says, waggling his eyebrows, as he taps his communicator. "Rodney, this is Sheppard, respond." She looks at him nonplussed and he lifts a finger to have her wait. "Yes, McKay, sorry to interrupt whatever incredible important experiment you're working on," he jokes wikedly. "Could you join me and the chef on the mess hall's balcony, please? And while you're at it, bring your red-haired girlfriend," he adds before hurriedly ending the conversation. "He was going to tell me she's not his girlfriend, blah, blah, blah," he explains to Louise and winks. "We know that it will take a little longer for McKay to get there but he will in the end," he adds with a lopsided grin. "Even if we have to shove and push him there," he adds on second thought, making her laugh.

"Louise, this is Katie, the botanist of our expedition. Katie, meet our chef extraordinaire," John says. They shake hands and John winks at Rodney. "Those two will be attached at the hip before you can say cookie," he informs him.

They go and sit in the mess hall that is deserted at this late hour. Louise turns to Katie. "How come we never met? I mean, you should have been the one on this expedition, not me," she elaborates, turning to John.

"Actually, we did want her to come too but she declined," Rodney explains with a pout and tilts his head at Katie.

Katie shrugs in embarrassment. "I'm not very keen on going through the gate. I gave a few ideas to Dr Beckett and Rodney and thought it'd be enough. I'm sorry," she apologizes.

"No need to apologize. I can understand, you know. The first time was a nightmare," Louise answers with a pout. "I hated it."

"And now?" John asks, non-commitically.

"I have to say, I kind of liked it, in hindsight. It's... exhilarating," she admits.

"Well, then, you can be Katie's eyes. Listen, Dr Brown," he adds, turning to her, "I'll talk to Dr Weir about it. If you don't feel like doing field trips right now, we totally understand. Louise seems good at it – as long as she doesn't stray", he adds wickedly, making her blush furiously. "I'll leave you to it to work on future projects together though. Louise and I have been brainstorming tonight," he elaborates. "I think you two can come up with some viable solutions right here on Atlantis. If you do, report to Dr Weir about it and she'll give you enough manpower to make them successful. Well, if you don't mind, I'll head for my quarters now. I have a big day ahead of me," he says, standing. He smiles at both women. "Ms Léger, when you have a minute, there's a project of my own I'd like to tell you about," he adds before leaving.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

_Chapter 9 – Red_

 _Dear Guest 64. Thank you so much for following this story so faithfully and gracing me with your reviews. I was afraid John being so comfortable with Louise would seem out of character. It might appear to some readers as such. I guess he recognizes something in her that allows him to be so. Actually, I never planned it. It just came out that way. And yet, it's still not easy for either of them. They still have to make do with their past and have not developed their friendship to the point where they could learn to trust each other with being open about it._

She wanders around the next morning, trying to find his office. She's been told he's there, trying to catch up with writing reports for his latest missions. She knocks on his door and he smiles when he sees her. "Had a goodnight?" he asks.

She eludes the question, not wanting to answer. Her nights are always plagued with nightmares and insomnia and he certainly doesn't need to know she's been awake since three in the morning, Lantean time, kneading dough for her rolls because, though she could use her food processors and bread machines, it always soothes her to do so by hand, her mind wandering as she listens to a selection of music on her Ipod. "You?" she says and he nods curtly, not wanting to plague her with his own worries. "You said you wanted to see me, Major?" she prods.

"Oh, yeah, right! Please, sit down," he says, motioning to the chair on the other side of his desk.

She looks at the mess in front of him and can't suppress a smirk. He pouts, his eyes crinkling in the process. She likes the way he sometimes looks like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Yeah, I know. I kind of keep reports for when I can't elude them anymore," he explains, shuffling through the files in front of him.

"She grounded you so you would finish them, right?" she prods, still smirking.

"So, you've heard," he winces. "She's a tough cookie," he banters. "And I'm a procrastinator," he adds, feeling he needs to be honest about it.

"I always do what I hate the most first. That way, I keep the best for last," she replies, beaming at him.

He nods, smiling back. "That's an idea. I should work on that."

"So?" she repeats, folding her arms on her chest. "You were saying..."

"Oh, yeah, right. I wanted to see you because it's going to be Elizabeth's birthday soon."

Her eyes light up but she doesn't say anything and waits.

"She has a challenging job and works a lot so I was thinking..." He winces, not wanting to let on too much.

"You'd like her to have a decent birthday. Say, gift and cake, at the very least," she guesses.

He nods. "I have the gift. I know we won't have time for a party or even maybe for a whole dinner but I was thinking maybe you could make a cake for her," he suggests.

"Or you could make it for her," she replies, narrowing her eyes at him.

He looks befundled but raises his hands in mock surrender. "Forget about it. I'm a terrible cook."

"So was I before I learnt," she replies. "No one is born with the ability to perform such complex tasks without being taught, you know. Everyone learns at one point or another. And I'm sure it would mean a lot more to her if you made it yourself," she adds, lifting her eyebrows.

"What do you have in mind?" he asks tentatively. "I'm on a tight schedule these days," he apologizes.

She sees he wants to but doesn't dare because if he fails, what will happen? "Tell you what. You try to do it. If you fail and you don't have time to try again, I'll do it for you," she offers, raising her eyebrows.

He leans over the desk and offers his hand to shake. "You have a deal!" She grins. "So, what do you think we can prepare?" he adds.

"She likes the color red and chocolate too, that I know for sure," she states and he nods. "What about red velvet? Not a layered cake. You won't have time to learn how to do it but we could make cupcakes."

He grins. "Sounds good. You have a go, chef!"

He joins her a couple of days before Dr Weir's birthday. It's late at night and he's finally finished with his training and meetings. She has finished cleaning the kitchen and making her own experiments on new food – vegetable crumbles made with those squash-like things they've traded from yet another mission they've just returned from. She's quite happy with both their purchase and the prospect of growing their own with the seeds they'll collect from the fruit. They've also bought hens and chickens and have decided to try and raise some. She was pleased when told by Ford that quite a few people have agreed to sign up on shifts to take care of them. She chuckles at the memory of his eager, juvenile look when he announced her he was willing to help with it too and was sure it would be a success.

"What's so funny, sweetie?" John is looking at her with the same fondness he's granted her for a few weeks now and her heart clenches at the thought he's becoming attached to her, and her to him. This shouldn't be. She can't let anyone close to her heart again, even a friend. She sobers up quickly. Each time she relaxes and realizes she did so, she chides herself for not being cautious enough about it.

She can't let herself grow fond of anyone – ever again. Especially here where people have a tendency to get killed. With Rodney, it's easier, she realizes guiltily. He's so awkward and so focused on whatever projects he's working on at the moment that he never, ever pushes her buttons. She never feels cornered. He comes in, has coffee and cookies with her, chats aimlessly, jumping from one subject to another and then leaves abruptly. It was disconcerting at first but at least it's safe. With John, it's more difficult, which is weird because she's realized that deep down, he is in many ways like her – not good with people and easily scared by physical proximity. She's had many arguments about it with Rodney and she's not won any of them, of course, because, let's face it, he talks too fast for her to keep up, but she'd bet her last dime on it – Captain Kirk is just a convenient façade.

She smiles at him. "Nothing, just thinking about Lieutenant Ford's enthusiasm for our newest food supply."

He smirks. "Yeah, well, he was very efficient is making people see the benefit of the experiment."

"I just hope he hasn't scared people into thinking we were bordering on a famine," she answers.

"Naw, don't you worry. Your food is proof enough we're doing really good." He grabs an apron from one of the pegs on the wall. "So," he says conspiratorially. "Are we ready for Desserts 101?"

They've made half a batch to test the recipe and she's quite happy with the result. The cupcakes might lean a little to the side for most of them because he still needs practising with the icing but they taste good. They sit at the bench on the mess hall's balcony, enjoying the cool evening breeze and their well-earned treats. He falls silent and she can almost see the cogs turning in his head. "I wonder," he starts tentatively and she encourages him to go on. "I wonder if it's such a good idea."

She rolls her eyes. "Hey, for a first time, you did great. Next time will be better and it's the thought that counts."

"It's not that. It's just... maybe I'll be overstepping the boundaries, offering her something for her birthday. She's my boss, after all." He winces.

She sighs. "Listen. I don't know much about rules and regulations here. I was given a crash course on many things and it was part of it but it kind of boggles my mind to prevent people from fraternizing. Besides, it's just a cake and gift. You're not asking her to marry you!" she teases him and sees him blush. So here it is. She had an inkling but it's confirmation enough. He fears he likes Elizabeth more than he should. "You know," she adds, not wanting him to slip back into this wistful mood he gets into when he thinks no one's watching. "I'm not saying break the rules and all that but I don't see how they could blame you for making her heart a little lighter with such an innocent gesture. Given the circumstances, Major, it's even more important than usual to show people you care about them."

"You would be an excellent diplomat, Louise, and a shrewd negociator," he chuckles. "Thanks for the pep talk."

"You're welcome, Major," she says, inclining her head slightly.

He takes a sip at his coffee. "Is this something you've thought about for yourself too?" he asks almost shyly, knowing he's on shaky ground when it comes to her private space. She remains silent but stands and goes to lean on the railing, watching the ocean. "I mean. What I mean is..." he fumbles for words, feeling awkward suddenly. It seemed so much easier in his head.

"I know what you mean, Major," she answers curtly without looking back at him. He cringes. He's gone too far. She takes a deep breath. "It was the case, before, yes. But not anymore," she says then turns and looking him straight in the eye adds: "And here, no, there's no one and I won't go down that road again. Now, if you'll excuse me," she says, collecting her mug and plate, "I'm going to bed. Tomorrow is another big day."

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

_Chapter 10 – End of summer_

 _I would like to thank again all those readers who have favorited, are following and/or are leaving reviews for this story. You made my day and it helps greatly to have feedback. Again, I don't have a beta on this story so all mistakes are mine. I'm doing my best to edit as much as I can but if you still find mistakes or awkward sentences that need to be rewritten, never hesitate to tell me._

 _To Guest 64 and another Guest who have left reviews and to whom I cannot send a PM, thank you for encouraging me with your kind words :)_

Elizabeth is so pleased with their recent alliances with the last two planets they've negociated with for food that she's decided Louise will join tomorrow's mission to the next planet they've sampled out from the Ancient database. Food is not a priority right now as they've replenished their stocks for the time being but it wouldn't hurt to find new allies and varied supplies, for that matter.

Katie and Louise have been spending more time together these last few days on making lists of plants that might be useful to the expedition. Louise finds it exhilarating to work with a true botanist, especially one who is so patient in teaching her the basics, not caring about Louise's ashamed statement that everything green she touches in a garden tends to be found dead in the following days. She's hoped that with time her co-worker will join the off-world missions but all she's gotten from her to this day is a trip to the mainland to oversee the Athosians' new crops and share her expertise with them.

"Thanks but no thanks," Katie has told her when offered yet again to join her on tomorrow's mission though the place seems secure enough from what intelligence John's team has gathered from a reconnaissance foray two days ago. "It's not I wouldn't like to spend time with you and have a change of scenery but I'm not ready yet. Besides," she's added, wincing, "I really don't want to have to spend the day with Mr I'm so smug I look like I have a broom stuck in my arse! He's all yours!"

Louise laughs out loud. "I don't really look forward to being on the same mission as Dr Kavanagh myself, FYI." She sighs and gets somber all of a sudden. It's true the guy is a consistent ass and she would have appreciated to be left out of that mission for once but Elizabeth seems to have taken for granted her recurring part in those missions. She knows she needs to ask for an interview with her boss and tell her she can't be everywhere at the same time.

Juggling with all the different aspects of her position is becoming a hassle. Truth be told, she's a bit responsible for it too. She doesn't know how to simply say no, thus putting in too many hours and has even recently burned herself because she was not paying enough attention to her task at hand, her mind being on the next task and the next one as well. Rodney has joked he'll give her a lesson in "subcontracting", as he puts it and she knows he's not far from the truth. She needs to learn to train her team in doing more so she can have more time outside the kitchen. Had she known at the time they hired her what complex task was awaiting her, she wonders if she'd been so enthusiastic about taking the job.

"Anyway," Katie is saying, "I don't understand why they're sending you this time. Rodney told me they're going there in the hope of finding a ZPM or at least Ancient technology, which explains Kavanagh wanted to tag along."

"Yeah, well. If you ask me, the biggest mystery is why he wants to tag along in the first place. He's afraid of going to the mainland, for Pete's sake! I guess all of Rodney's recent achievements have sparked his jealousy. As for why Dr Weir has ordered me to go along, I guess it's because she's aware we shouldn't put all our eggs in the same basket, that's all. Anyway, I'll keep away from Dr Kavanagh as much as I can and if I'm lucky, I might even find some of those plants you've asked for," Louise concludes with a wink and a smile.

The next morning, she doesn't feel that confident anymore. She's gearing up with Teyla who for once is looking sour. She surmises it's got to do with the addition of a new yet thankfully not permanent member to the expedition's flagship team. "Anything the matter?" she asks while Teyla is making her double-check her gear.

The Athosian leader gives her a terse smile. "Not really, Ms Léger. The recon mission was successful enough that you needn't worry beforehand."

"This is not what I meant, Teyla..." she chides her.

Teyla gracefully nods her acknowledgement. "We're all a little bit on edge, I guess." She sighs then adds: "Dr Kavanagh is not the easiest person to work with."

Louise snorts. "Yeah, you can say that!"

"Have you had any problem with him? I didn't even know you knew him..." Teyla is surprised. Louise usually keeps to herself. They've tried to lure her to the mess hall and sit with them countless times but have only succeeded so far when no one else is around.

Louise's facial expression turns sour too. "Oh, yeah! I have!" She sees Teyla is waiting for the other shoe to drop so she decides to come clean about it though she's tried to keep it quiet up until now, fearing John – and Dr Weir – might overreact. She rolls her eyes. "No big deal. I'm a big girl. I know how to take care of myself." She goes on as she sees Teyla won't budge until she's given her more. "OK. It's really nothing. We might have had a brush in..."

" _Chef?" She's currently making preserves in the kitchen as her team is serving dinner. She usually helps out but tonight, she's even more swamped than usual. The Athosians have returned with crates of fruit from Elisia and she's endeavored to prepare jars for the winter months to come. As much as they'd like to believe the tropical climate of the planet is going to last indefinitely, the meteorologists have discovered in an abandoned lab a series of files suggesting summers here abruptly turn into dire winters._

 _The Athosians are preparing for it by building sturdier shelters and stacking up warm clothes and blankets as well as food that can be used when they won't be able to leave their homes. Meat and fish are currently being smoked in low-temperature ovens Rodney has helped to design. They're drying fruit as well on wooden shelves, yet the biggest part is to preserve fruit and vegetables that can be used in dishes and as the main source of vitamins during the winter months. From the data they've gathered and the calculus they've made, Atlantis will be able to drift off to warmer climate but the whole mainland will be impacted, probably making it difficult at times to commute between the city and the continent. Thus the preserves._

 _She looks up and gazes at one of her assistants who is waiting patiently for her to answer though she can see he's tapping his fingers nervously on his thighs."Yes, what is it, Private?" She sometimes calls them by their first names or nicknames though rarely so as John has advised her against it. Yes, she was the one to choose them from a list of applicants and conducted their interviews but all those kids are awfully young. None had any experience with the Stargate program before they were hired and in spite of their enthusiasm for the whole thing, she must be aware they're first and foremost barely out of their teenage years. They've been trained to help in case of an invasion and are very dedicated, looking up to their commander, but here, in the kitchen, John has reminded her, she's in charge. "I don't want you to go soft on them," he's warned her._

" _I won't!" she's retorted, hurt. "I've been doing great until now, don't you think?"_

" _It's not that, sweetie. You manage them well but they need to know who's the boss. I recently overheard a couple of conversations, that's all. They say you're not what they thought you were – that you're much nicer, whatever that means..."_

 _She's thought about it before answering, raking her mind for something that might have changed the perception of things around here. "I think it was easier for them when I didn't interact that much. It might have looked like I was the Snow Queen of the realm of Atlantis. But I guess you're right. I'll be more cautious from now on."_

" _Chef?" She's spaced out again, she chides herself. It's so easy to do so when she's lulled into a transe by her cooking._

" _Yes, what is it, Private?"_

" _Ma'am, sorry to bother you but there's someone who wants to see you."_

 _Those big moss-green eyes he usually trains on her when she's teaching him a new recipe are avoiding hers right now so she knows something is off. She raises her eyebrows expectantly, the hand that is holding the ladle poised over the steaming pot."Well, actually, he's more like demanded to see you, to be honest... Ma'am." His voice trails off, embarrassed._

" _Well, except if we're sustaining an invasion, you can tell whoever is at the door he'll have to wait!" Her tone tells her assistant her decision is final. He retreats towards the door with a respectful "Yes, Ma'am."_

 _He hasn't been gone for a minute when the door wooshes open again and a tall man with a pony tail and a scowl on his face stomps in, only stopping when he's barely a couple of feet from her, invading her private space. She props the ladle on a stand, wipes her hands on a tea towel and turns to him, her hands crossed on her chest to keep her temper at bay. No one has ever had the nerve to enter her realm without being invited to it first. "What?!" she barks._

 _He sniggers, folding his arms on his chest too. "I demand to be attended to immediately. Who do you think you are to keep me waiting?" he barks back._

 _Her eyebrows shoot to her hairline. "I don't know... The cook, maybe! You know, the person in charge of feeding you! I advise you strongly against keeping up with your attitude, mister, if you want to find food on your plate on a regular basis!" She's glaring at him now._ Who's the jerk anyway?

 _Private Ridgeway is back. He's shuffling his feet uncomfortably and she has the impression he feels like he's caught between the hammer and the anvil. "Can I be of help, Ma'am?" he asks, standing at attention._

 _She rolls her eyes. How many times has she told them she's not military, thus exonerating them from the duty? This time, though, she's grateful he does. "As you were, Rusty. If you're not needed in the mess hall, I'd be grateful you'd take my place for the time being," she tells him, nodding to her current task. He discreetly lifts his hand to his headset and she immediately gets the meaning of it and shakes her head, her jaw set. She really doesn't need John to barge in and make matters worse. Whoever the guy is, she needs to have him respect her for who she is and not be seen as John's favorite. Rusty salutes respectfully and donning an apron, sets to work._

 _She turns to the intruder. "So?" she says, staring him down, her hands on her hips. "What the hell are you doing in my kitchen?"_

 _He snorts disrespectfully. "It's not your kitchen. You're only an employee here so stop showing off." She glares at him. The nerve of the guy! She tries to remain calm because she knows nothing good will come out of a fight in such a place. Everyone needs everyone else here. She just needs to make him see that. She licks her lips."As a matter of fact, Mr..." She waits for him to finally have the decency to introduce himself._

 _He puffs himself up. "It's Doctor! Doctor Kavanagh," he adds as if disclosing his full name to her were a disgrace to him._

 _She can't help snorting. "Well, Doctor," she answers, insisting with mock respect on his title, "you yourself are also an employee here! That makes us equals as I'm sure you can see. Only Dr Weir can order me around, which she doesn't of course because she is well-educated and you obviously are not!" He opens and closes his mouth several times, at a loss for words. Before he can return to his senses and his vicious tongue, she adds: "Now, you have one minute to tell me what you're doing here."_

" _Or what?" he retorts._

" _Or I'll make sure you'll get only leftovers and weak coffee until you understand your mistake. Now, chop chop, mister, I don't have all day."_

 _He breathes in, trying to contain his anger but his disdain is clearly visible. "No need to be so vindictive," he berates her, which makes her assistant snort beside her. She remains cool on the surface, regarding him coldly and lifts an eyebrow._

" _Forty-five seconds," she points out._

" _Very well," he says, seeing he's not getting anywhere. "I wanted to see you to file a complaint about the recent shift in diet here."_

 _She peers at him impatiently."There's nothing wrong with the food I serve," she informs him._

" _I pledge to differ. You have reduced the amount of meat, replacing it with fish, eggs or vegan meals, like tonight, which is scandalous. How are we suppose to feed our grey cells with such a diet?!" He looks indignant and she can't help snorting at the phrase. "What?!" he barks. "What's so funny?"_

" _You've just quoted Hercule Poirot – more or less," she mocks him. "But I'm sure it was accidental," she adds, chuckling as she sees his non-plussed look. "Anyway," she says, lifting her hand to stop him as she sees him ready for a new fight, "the food served on the City is healthy, nutritious and adapted to each and everyone's special needs. I assure you your little grey cells won't suffer at all from a few vegetarian or fish dishes. Actually, they'll be all the better for it. You've probably been used to being fed a high-calorie diet on a regular basis back on Earth but here, you'll have to do as the Romans do, or as the Lanteans do for that matter! Shall I remind you we're cut off from Earth and thus the life you have wrongly taken for granted? We simply do not have the means to sustain the same diet as on Earth. If you don't like the vegetable crumble and smoked salmon-like fish I've prepared tonight, you still have the option to fast. It won't kill you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do," she adds, her tone final as she motions for him to leave the room._

 _He's fuming but has no other choice but to comply. "Don't you think this is the end of it," he threatens her as he barges out of the room._

 _She shakes her head in dismay. "Ma'am, do you want me to report him to Major Sheppard?" Private Ridgeway offers._

 _She winces. "No, Rusty. As a matter of fact, I'd much appreciate you keep quiet about all this for the time being. Major Sheppard and Dr Weir have enough on their hands as it is."_

"You should have reported him to Major Sheppard, Ms Léger. This is bullying," Teyla says indignantly after Louise has finished recounting the incident, echoing Rusty's advice.

She shakes her head. "Certainly not. I can take care of myself, Teyla. It's OK. I just need him to keep away from me as much as possible. I might be compassionate but he's used up my patience in one go. I'm not sure I'd be so cool if there were a next time."

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

_Chapter 11- Revelation_

They've set up camp on the outskirts of the Ancient ruins. The inhabitants of the area around the stargate are nomads and only have yurts, very much like those used by Teyla's people. Rodney grumbles a lot about it. Louise teases him but knows he'll adapt, which he does once the tents are pitched and he's made sure she'll prepare a warm, hearty dinner.

She's brought enough food to prepare stew for them all, including the native tribe with whom they are more than likely to trade for meat. The forest around abounds with game and they're ready to trade some of it on a regular basis for flour. She's also brought bread, canned fruit for dessert and small cookies baked with rum-flavored raisins. "Shrewd choice," Aiden approves as he sees her unpack her bags. "You do know how to bargain, don't you?" He winks at her.

She looks innocent enough but he knows all this is a calculated move to entice their soon to be allies to trade with them.

She smiles at him. "Aiden, would you mind coming with me to the nearby spring? Dr Beckett tested it when we arrived and has assured me the water is germ-free. I need to fill a couple of pots to boil water for coffee and tea."

"Of course, chef. Major Sheppard said whatever you need." He grabs the pots and leads the way.

"Don't you dare think for one second I'm going to let you two pamper me," she points out teasingly.

"I know, Ma'am... You can take care of yourself!" he replies, repeating her motto.

"But I sure appreciate your help," she replies gracefully.

When they arrive at the spring, they have the unpleasant surprise to meet Kavanagh who's filling his bottle with water. He nods curtly at them.

"Thought you'd be at the ruins with Dr McKay," Ford points out, making Kavanagh blush bright red.

"None of your concern! And what may I ask you two are doing here anyway?" he retorts disdainfully.

Louise chooses to ignore his attitude. "Getting dinner ready, Doctor," she says, insisting on the last word. "And if you're a good boy, you might even have meat," she adds wikedly, remembering the reason for his foray into her kitchen not so long ago.

He snorts. "I wouldn't expect it any other way after all the work we're doing here."

Ford rolls his eyes. He taps his headset. "Yes, Sir, will be right there. Ford out." He turns to the scientist. "You've just earned yourself the right to a portion of that stew. Sheppard wants me to help in the ruins so you'll have to fill in for me. Help Ms Léger bring the pots of water back to camp and she might let you have dinner tonight," he banters before handing the empty pots to Kavanagh and leaving at a jog. "Call us if you need us, Ma'am," he says as he leaves.

"Don't worry, Lieutenant," she answers and hears him chuckle: "Yeah, yeah, I know..."

Being left alone with Kavanagh seems awkward. She doesn't like his constant look of utter disdain. She's also heard rumors that he's a selfish prick and a coward and that is unnerving when the person next to you may become the most important one should anything happen off-world. She sure wouldn't want to be partnered with him if Wraith were to appear. Come to think about it, minus the Wraith, she's already in that situation. She decides to ignore the creepy feeling she gets around him and motions for him to help her. He looks down on her. "You really don't think I'm going to stoop to doing such vile task, do you? It's your job so I'll leave you to it," he sputters, dropping the pots at her feet and leaving towards the ruins.

She sighs and sets to work. After all, she's glad she's alone though when she starts trudging back towards the camp, she's furious with him. The pots are heavy and she needs to be careful if she doesn't want to spill too much water on the way. After what seems like an eternity, she turns the corner of the path but realizes she's only halfway through. She sets the pots in the dirt and peers at her watch, realizing two things at the same time – one, it's much later than she thought and two, she's forgotten her jacket at the camp with everything in it, meaning her radio but most of all her device to check her blood sugar level as well as the sugar cubes she always keeps with her in case of hypoglycemia.

She feels dizzy from walking in the sun and carrying the heavy loads so she sits in the dirt. From her experience, she knows for sure her blood sugar level is much too low and she needs to do something about it but no one is around. She has to go back to camp before anyone notices she's not come back. She's never felt the need to talk to anyone about it and certainly doesn't intend to do so anytime soon. _Come on,_ she scolds herself _, you're not a sissy. You can do it!_ She stands and decides to leave the pots behind, hoping she'll have time to come back once she's raised her glucose level back to normal. She starts trudging ahead on the path but it's slightly going upwards and she feels her head spin before dropping to the ground and fainting.

Ford knows something is definitely not right when he tries to reach her radio for the second time. He just wants to make sure she doesn't need help at the camp, especially as she's only brought one prep cook with her. The radio finally crackles to life but it's not her voice he hears. "Ms Léger's radio. Yes?" He asks who's there and is told it's the other cook who informs him she's left her jacket at the camp and hasn't come back ever since she left with him. That's when he realizes his mistake. He's let her leave the camp without it because he was with her, which is a major error of judgement. Should something happen in between and they'd be separated, she wouldn't have any means of survival or communication with the rest of the team. The apparent peaceful atmosphere on the planet and lack of any recent culling has lulled him into carelessness. He then realizes that a few hundred yards away, Kavanagh is bickering loudly with McKay.

He yells in their direction. "What the hell are you doing here, Doctor Kavanagh? You were supposed to help Ms Léger bring the water back to the camp! Where is she?"

Kavanagh doesn't even spare him a glance. He shrugs. "Don't know. And for your information, soldier, I'm not at her beck and call. You didn't really believe I was going to help her, uh?"

Ford makes a mental note to kick his ass later and leaves at a run, calling Beckett on his radio to join him there. When they arrive, she's endeavoring to sit up. Her left arm is badly bruised and she seems to be struggling to keep her eyes open. Beckett attends to her immediately, checking her vitals and her bruising. He hands her a small carton of sweetened condensed milk without a word. She sees he's pissed. _He knows. Of course he knows, you stupid. He probably knows all the files of everyone in the City by heart._ She bows her head shamefully. She's going to get a talking to, for sure.

When she feels better, they get her back to camp and Ford walks back to the path to retrieve the pots. He hasn't said a word to her – nor has Beckett, for that matter – but the kid is not stupid. He can put two and two together. She looks up at him with pleading eyes when he returns. "I'm sorry," she says tentatively, looking towards Beckett too. "Please don't tell anyone."

Beckett's lips are a thin line. "I cannot keep it to myself, love, and you know it, as I'm sure Lieutenant Ford's ethics and orders do not allow the incident to be left off the record either. As for you, young lady," he says, making her laugh humorlessly since she's older than him, "I was much too lenient with you. How long do you think you could still wait to tell me about your condition? Are you reckless?"

She shrugs. "I thought I had enough medication for a very long time and was not really planning ahead. I was allowed to come by Dr Lam, period."

"I'm not saying you were wrong to come or she was wrong to accept you on the program. You can lead a normal life and are probably healthier than most of us, seeing as you must have been instructed into it from the moment you discovered your medical condition. I'm just saying it's reckless not to have the people closer to you aware of it so they know what to do in case of such an incident," he chides her.

"You're diabetic?" Ford asks her shyly, not wanting to scare her off.

She nods. "Type 1. I was diagnosed quite late in my adult life. Not many adults have it. They usually develop type 2 in their forties. I was thirty-two when I got sick. I just learnt to cope with it. I'm usually prudent." Beckett tilts his head and she rolls her eyes. "OK, well, most of the time. It's more difficult in a new environment. We live and learn, right? It won't happen again, I promise."

"We'll see," Beckett replies non-committally.

"I'm sorry," Ford says.

"You'd better be," Beckett replies curtly. "You heard Sheppard the other day. He doesn't like her to be left alone. What were you thinking?"

Louise wants to defend him but the young man stops her with a look. "I said I was sorry. Sorry to learn she's sick. Sorry I had not realized she didn't have her jacket with her. Sorry I left her with that douche bag. I'm sorry, Louise," he says, looking at her. "I was stupid to think Kavanagh wouldn't leave the moment I had my back turned on him."

Beckett looks murderous. "You need to tell Sheppard or so help me God, I will."

Ford nods. Louise turns red with embarrassment. "Does everyone here need to know?! Can I not be spared the humiliation of telling people I'm sick? Do you know how people's looks change when they know? Yeah, that look!" she says pointing at Ford. "They feel sorry for you and then, soon enough, they don't invite you to do stuff like sports or going to the restaurant with them because, hey, it's kind of too complicated, right?" She's getting angry. She had hoped for a second chance but given her luck, what did she expect?

"What do you want me to do, Louise? I have to report it to Dr Weir at the very least," Beckett says.

"Do you need to inform John as well?" she wants to know, a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

The two men look at each other, agreeing silently. "Not if you tell him yourself, love. You can leave out the problem with Kavanagh if you want, though you have to understand I'll have to mention it in my report to Dr Weir anyway. What she tells Sheppard is her decision, not mine." Ford nods in agreement.

She lifts her chin in defiance, her eyes brimming with tears. "When do I have to inform him before you decide to tell on me?"

He sighs. "Look, I know you care a lot about what Sheppard thinks. You can deny it all you want but you've made a few friends all right here and John is one of them. I know it's hard to look weak but I have an inkling he already knows you're not, so I'd bet my last shirt on it – that won't change the way he looks at you. It won't for me or Ford either." The other man nods vehemently. "And I'm sure by now you have understood Teyla is not the kind to care about such things. As for Rodney, well, let's say he knows about hypoglycemia himself!" he adds with humor. "See, you don't need to tell anyone and you certainly don't have to fear being seen differently. Now, if you think it'll change Sheppard's way of looking at you, I have to tell you, you might not be worthy of being his friend," he adds wickedly, making her turn beet red with shame.

She seeks him out after dinner, when there's a lull in the conversation with the natives and they've stricken a deal, everyone enjoying the warmth of the fire and trading stories over dessert. "Could you help me carry the pots to the river to wash them, Major?" she asks him shyly, not looking him in the eyes.

He sees something is not right but does not comment on it. She's seemed upset all evening though still endeavoring to be graceful to their hosts. He's seen her talk to Teyla, then Rodney, and the two of them seem upset too. Beckett has hovered over her all night so a sense of foreboding settles in his stomach as he starts walking along the path with her by his side, lighting their steps with the flashlight of his P90.

He startles when she hooks her arm in his free one. "What is it, Louise?" he asks, his fears rising to a dangerous level.

She remains silent for an eternity. "I've been lying to you," she finally confesses.

He stops dead in his tracks and turns to her abruptly. "I'm sorry. What?" His voice is demanding. She cowers in the flashlight and sets the pots on the ground. "Is it something you've been discussing with Teyla and Rodney as well? Does Beckett know? No, don't say anything," he adds, seeing her cringing. "So everyone knows but me, I gather! Ford?" he prods. She nods once, feeling the fire of her blush invade her face. "Well, it's good to know I'm the last to be told, being in charge here and all!" he scowls.

"It's not what you think," she replies in a small voice.

"And what do I think, Louise? Tell me! Because I sure don't have a clue about what's going on. I just can see you've chosen to tell everyone around you except me. I thought we trusted each other."

"We do. Of course, we do," she answers hurriedly. "It's just it's something I had hoped would not have to be revealed."

"And why is that? I'm having a hard time believing you have a skeleton in your closet, sweetie."

"But I do, John. More than one. Like most of us, I guess," she reflects. "Look," she says, laying her hand on his arm tentatively, knowing he's not the touchy type, "it's no big deal. It's just I didn't want anyone to look at me differently because of it..."

"Just spill it out, damn it. You're killing me!" he growls.

"I've got diabetes, John. I fainted this afternoon on this very path. Lieutenant Ford found me and called Dr Beckett. They told me I owed it to you and the rest of the team to tell the truth so here I am, telling you I'm sick..." Her voice trails off as she sees him stare at her. " _Here we go,"_ she thinks sadly. _"He'll act like most people I used to know. He'll say he's sorry and soon enough, I'll be told it's too risky for me to go off-world. I'm sure if they could, they'd send me back to Earth asap."_

"Were you military, I would put you in the brig for being so dumb!" he says through clenched teeth. She cringes. "What were you thinking, damn it?! I should punish you for it, should ask Elizabeth to remove you from the mission logs for the time being, just to teach you a lesson!" he adds, his finger pointing at her menacingly. Her eyes are brimming with tears. She was right from beginning to end. He's going to give her the sack, now he knows. "But I need your expertise and company too much, you minx! Now, let's be clear about one thing," he adds, looming over her, "You hide something vital to the success of a mission and you can be damn sure you'll spend the rest of your time with a marine assigned to your protection wherever you go, including inside the City, capice?"

She nods. "You're not pissed because I'm diabetic?" she asks in a small voice.

"Why should I be pissed at something that is not your fault? Now, being stupid, Ma'am, that's your fault for sure!" he mocks her.

She brushes her tears away with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry," she apologizes.

"Shut up! I hate weak women," he banters. "Let's get the dishes done and go to bed. I have the feeling you'll need the rest as much as I do."

TBC

 _I apologize for any clumsiness you might stumble upon. I'm endeavoring to do as best as I can. All mistakes are mine. Don't hesitate to point them to me so I may correct them._


	12. Chapter 12

_Chapter 12 – Party on the beach_

Though she had dreaded from the start the moment when she'd have to tell someone about her condition, she surprisingly feels like a weight has lifted from her chest now a few people know. It's been a couple of weeks and no one who knows seems to have changed their behavior.

Summer almost is over. The Athosians have decided to hold a celebration in honor of their new homes – sort of a whole village having a housewarming party – and have invited their former hosts to join in so John figures he might as well teach them how to have a proper party on the beach the day before and take the whole team surfing.

They've been lucky enough to have a lull in their missions so he and Aiden have had time to head for the mainland and prepare bonfires. Elizabeth has declined to come, not wanting to have both leaders leave the city at the same time. Louise knows John is disappointed. He's got this frown on his face as he flies them to the mainland. She sits next to him and admires the view, sighing without realizing it. He turns to her. "What is it, chef? Afraid of heights?" he teases her.

She shakes her head, laughing. "Nope. Actually, I envy you. I wish I could fly one of those things."

"Hey, McKay," he calls the scientist who's sitting at the back, bickering with Zelenka over some equations. "Ever pinned our petite chef for a flygirl?"

Mc Kay shrugs. "Of course, I know! If you took time to talk to her..." he adds nastily, knowing fully well John drops by her kitchen almost every day.

John chooses to ignore him for now though bickering with McKay has become one of his favorite activities of late. He rolls his eyes at Louise, making her eyes crinkle. "Well, can you do something about it? She hasn't got the gene, right?"

Louise sniggers. "John, I'm sitting right next to you. How about asking me?!"

He chuckles. "OK, Louise. Do you have the gene?" he asks as he gently lands the jumper on the beach.

"I don't. And before you ask, Beckett won't try giving me the treatment because of my condition. Says I react more strongly to some medicine like vaccines or antibiotics than you guys so he figured there was no need to try it on me and make me sick." Her disappointment is palpable.

"Well, maybe one day, he'll improve his treatment and be able to give it to you. In the meantime, I'm going to make you discover the thrill of riding the waves," he adds, opening the hatch.

"You don't seriously think I'm going to get on a surfboard at my age, right?" she teases him as they set the towels on the beach.

He strips off his clothes then dons a short wetsuit. "Depends," he answers, looking cocky. "Are you ready to do without those marshmellows you brought for the s'mores? Cos' Rodney and Beckett have gone to the village and I know for a fact Ford is dying to see you on a board. See, sweetie, no one will open up the hatch for you until you've proven your valor!" he adds, motioning for her to get ready. He's already used her sense of guilt to lure her to the mainland. Now, he's resorting to bribery! She scowls but deep inside is kind of glad she's forced to do it. No one has ever offered to teach her but as her granny used to say, it's never too late to try. If her grandmother was able to go back to cooking school in her forties, she must be able to learn to stand – or maybe just sit – on a board. After all her fears of being seen differently because of her condition, she's glad John is treating her like everyone else.

"You should have seen her, Doc!" Aiden brags about Louise's first time on the board.

They're sitting around one of the bonfires, enjoying the sunset and s'mores they're sharing with some very enthusiastic Athosian kids. They've all changed back into warmer clothes, their feet digging in the warm sand.

Louise snorts. "Yeah, sure, you betcha! I never got to standing on that thing! All I did was paddle away from the beach and then turn around, try to stand and then fell into the water. Every single time," she says, chuckling. "I must have been a sight to see!"

John chuckles and elbows her. "You did good, all the same."

"Yeah," Aiden adds. "I bet you never had the opportunity to just watch surfers where you came from or you'd know it takes time to learn."

The eyes she's trained on him suddenly get ice cold, as if they'd gone lifeless. She grabs her socks and shoes and puts them on. "Yeah, that must be that, Lieutenant. Where I come from, there are no beaches or surf spots," she sniggers.

Everyone is looking at them. How has the atmosphere suddenly changed so drastically? Rodney knows for a fact she never allows anyone to mention her native country. It's as if she wished she could remove it from the maps of the Earth. He never asked about it. Some things are better left unsaid. He bends towards her. "He didn't mean any harm, Louise," he pleads, being unusually forgiving with the young lieutenant.

She nods and stands. "Give me a few minutes, you all," she says demurely. "I just need to regroup myself."

She wraps a blanket around her shoulders, shivering, and goes to walk along the beach, away from the party. _The kid didn't mean any harm, Rodney is right. I just reacted harshly because I can't still stand being reminded of my former life._ She sighs. _I'm hurting people in the process. People who have nothing to do with any of this. They've accepted me as their own and never been judgemental. I'm such a bitch_ , she thinks bitterly.

She turns around and walks back toward them. John stands and walks up to her. "What was that all about?" he asks, looking her in the eyes. She pouts. "You know you can tell me anything. If there are things that are painful and you don't want to talk about, tell us. Just don't shut us out like you just did."

She nods and rubs his arm affectionately then walks to Aiden. "I'm sorry," she says. "Some words trigger bad memories. We do have very nice surf spots in Southern France and I went there quite a few times. I hate being reminded of happier times."

"I understand. I have a few of those too," he replies good-naturedly. "But, Ma'am? Happier times? Ain't you happy here?"

She's saved from answering by a few kids who run to her and ask to play that African game she's taught them with stones and holes made in the sand. She smiles at them and complies, sitting cross-legged among them. Teyla observes her for some time, making John train his eyes on her too. "What is it, Teyla?" She's usually very perceptive and he's curious to know what she's seen in the scene that is unravelling before her. "Maybe it's nothing. It's just she... how can I explain? She both seems at ease around children, as if she knew how to deal with them, and very uncomfortable when it becomes more personal. Hallin told me she was always careful when allowing them in her kitchen. She'd never have a favorite or let one of them sit on her lap. It's as if she were performing a duty well-learnt but never letting anyone close." She shakes her head. "Forgive me. I probably see more into it than there really is."

He frowns. "No, you're right. I can see it too. But it's not only the children. It's everyone. It's more obvious with the kids because they don't limit themselves – don't realize when they cross a line."

"So, you think she's still uncomfortable with us too?" she wonders.

He nods. "Yeah. Definitely. Just very good at hiding it. I'm sure she's made efforts to fit in and make amends too for not being truthful with us but I'm sure it's just the tip of the iceberg."

"You're one to talk, John Sheppard," she can't help teasing him, making him lift his hands in mock surrender.

"I confess. I'm not the easiest person to talk to. But I promise to make efforts, OK?" She bows her head in agreement. "Now, what do you say we have some of that moonshine your people have brought and I go get my guitar?"

His eyes twinkle as he starts striking a few chords enticingly, making people turn their heads and head his way. Louise motions for the children to come and sit around the fire. He turns to her and smiles, patting the blanket next to him for her to sit. "What do you say we celebrate our first Thanksgiving here with Johnny Cash?" he whispers to her, waggling his eyebrows. She chuckles, having been told by Teyla how the 2IC seems to worship a "tall man in black". The Athosian leader has not completely grasped yet the meaning of what the words "country music" and "superstar" mean for American people but Louise sure had a good time trying to explain both concepts to her, failing poorly and finally telling her to just pretend and humor John on that one.

Even before he starts singing, she knows what he's going to play. She's not a unconditional fan of Cash herself and she hasn't told him yet about being quite into country music but that song, she knows it by heart and finds it very fitting for the celebration of their first year on the planet. "We've come to the time and the season, when family and friends gather near, to offer a pray of thanksgiving, for blessings we've known through the year..." she starts humming as he sings and plays, remembering hearing Cash singing it on a show. She smiles at him when he turns to her, surprised. He wouldn't have dared ask her to join him, knowing how reserved she normally is but she obviously knows the lyrics.

A little one who's already yawning profusely comes to sit on her lap. She startles but does not refuses him the warmth and comfort of her arms, even wrapping her blanket around him and offering him a s'mores. She's shown the kids earlier on how to make them by roasting the marshmellows then pressing them between the crackers and chocolate, whispering as she did how wonderful it was to taste something new for the first time and how she'd experienced it herself at a party very much like the one they're having tonight.

When John finishes the song, looking intently at Rodney as he sings the last line "I'm thanking the Lord he made you," Aiden roars with laughter and even Hallin can't help chuckling at Rodney's indignant scowl and "of course, you do!"

The party lasts well into the night though John chooses to return early. Louise comes with him. She's bone tired and will have to get up earlier than usual to help prepare for the Athosian celebration as well as insure everyone who's not going is properly fed on Atlantis. "You don't want to leave her alone, do you?" she asks John as they exit the jumper. He looks at her questioningly. "Dr Weir," she elaborates.

He looks uneasy. "Yeah, well. It didn't seem fair to have all the fun and leave her here to do all the work. I bet she hasn't left her office all day."

"I bet she hasn't!" she agrees. "Don't worry. I asked for a tray to be sent to her for lunch and dinner but you'll still have to make her leave the place to get some rest," she points out.

He chuckles. "Says the person who hardly ever leaves her workstation and doesn't have a social life! It's a miracle you know so much about everyone around here!"

She smiles. "Sometimes you don't need to talk to people to get to know them. Sometimes watching and listening is quite enough. And don't go accusing me of not having a social life when all you do is work these days," she answers pointedly.

He laughs. "Touché!"

They reach the control room and before he knows she's going to slip away and scurry back to her kitchen to make sure everything is fine before, he hopes, she'll head to bed, he peers at her. "Ain't you going to answer Aiden's question, Ms Léger?" She tilts her head, pretending not to remember, praying to God he's gonna let her off the hook. He doesn't. "Aren't you happy here, Louise?" he elaborates.

She sighs and smiles sadly. "It's a difficult question you're asking me, Major. Given human nature, I guess happiness can only be seen as something past or something we're trying to attain, not something we have."

"So, are you telling me you were but are not anymore?" he prods bullheadedly.

She thinks about it. "I guess I used to be once, yes, in another time and galaxy."

He nods his understanding of what is implied. "All right, then, will you be again?"

She laughs humorlessly. "How can we predict that, Major? I'm no seer."

"That's not what I meant and you know it. We all have a past, Louise, but will you allow yourself to have a future?" he asks, his eyes boring into hers.

"Will you?" she retorts, making him flinch. She hasn't meant it to seem so vicious and shudders from the unsettling feeling. He started it, she tells herself. He refuses to see the truth and though she's originally promised herself not to interfere, her heart goes out to him, wishing there were a way to make him see how important it is to grasp happiness when you still can.

"I would if I could," he answers, still shocked at her bluntness.

"No, John, that's quite the contrary," she counters, not wanting to let him have the last word, yet knowing how rules and regulations tend to make things more difficult for everyone around here. "Right back at ya," he says before stomping towards Elizabeth's office, leaving her standing in the middle of the room without so much as a goodnight.

TBC

 _I won't be posting another chapter for a week or so as I'm going skiing and the internet connection is not a sure thing there. I will write though. My muse is being kind to me these days and I have plenty of stories to tell ;)_

 _Again, thank you all so much for reading and liking Louise. She's dear to me._


	13. Chapter 13

_Chapter 13 – Message in a bottle_

Aiden drops by one afternoon as she's checking on the hens and chickens. In spite of the urgency of the situation, he can't help smiling at the way she talks to them in hush tones, sitting on her heels.

It hasn't taken long for them to find their pace as he comes almost everyday to help her with the chicken coop or stocks and begs for a piece of whatever is cooling on her racks. They've become too close. She knows he sees her as a sort of surrogate mother. She doesn't feel comfortable with the idea though she likes him a lot. Who wouldn't?

They've gone on a couple more expeditions together, always with Sheppard's team and she's learnt to trust his judgement, as she has with the other members of the flagship team. He knows it and is quite proud of it. She was never a given, even for Rodney, so earning her trust is gratifying. He also doubles as her knight in shining armor when his commander is busy elsewhere. Not that she really needs someone to defend her as they've come to realize – she's used to fending off for herself – but just because they've fallen into that comfortable routine from the very first off-world mission. He worries about her and likes to think she worries about him too, making sure he eats well before missions, or dropping a tray herself on his doorstep when he arrives too late from a mission to get a warm dinner.

"Louise?" he asks tentatively, not wanting to scare her off, knowing she often spaces out, her mind deep in her chores.

She turns to him and gives him a tense smile. "Aiden... What brings you here?" she greets him. "I thought all military personnel was requisitioned..."

He smiles too and shrugs. "I am, Ma'am. Actually, I'm on a mission, here," he explains, knowing she already knows but hasn't showed up yet in the room he's been allocated for his special assignment.

She stands and nods, folding her hands together in front of her – a sign he's learnt to decipher as showing embarassment. "So I've heard..."

"Well, I thought if you didn't come to the mountain, the mountain would come to you!" He winks and removes his camera from his bag. "I have everything I need so I can set it anywhere is convenient for you."

She frowns and folds her arms on her chest. "I'm not doing this, Lieutenant," she simply says.

"Of course, you are," he answers, trying to be cheerful. "Dr McKay has worked his butt off to find a solution. I think we should all do it as a tribute to his hard work. And you must have someone back home you want to talk to. Tell them what you've done. Show them the chicks," he says, motioning to the baby chickens scurrying around her feet. She smiles at the endearing thought of the little yellow balls but then shakes her head. "Nope, Lieutenant, there's no one."

She's never told him anything about her life before Atlantis with the exception of the odd jobs she's had, just before she went on that show – basically being a prep cook cum dishwasher in several family restaurants until her latest employer had twisted her arm and practically forced her to apply to the show for the publicity his diner would get. He knows they were no friends to her but he's always believed she still has someone back on Earth – anyone, family or friend. He chooses not to push her limits. "Well, Ma'am, why don't you send a message to General O'Neill?" he offers.

She thinks about it for a moment. "Are we going to die, Aiden?" she asks. This is a question that is on everyone's lips though no one's found the nerve to voice it out.

He chooses to come clean about it. "We might."

"We might or we will?"

He looks cornered and she takes pity on him. "Tell you what. I'm going to follow your advice and leave a note for General O'Neill." She sees the ghost of a smile on his lips. "And yes, I'll tell him about the coop."

He finishes to install his camera and shows her how it works so she can do the recording herself. "Whatever you want to say, Ma'am, just say it. No one else will see it. I can edit it if you want but I won't tell a word, whatever you say."

She thanks him and waits for him to leave. For a moment, she feels lost and scared and almost calls him back on his communicator to tell him she's changed her mind. But then she thinks back on those past few months and the people here. It wouldn't be fair not to leave as many testimonies as possible of the incredible adventure they've embarked on. She's not really scared of dying, at least not if it comes quickly. What has haunted her dreams ever since they've learnt about the imminence of the Wraith attack and their very unlikely chance of survival is that the whole expedition would somehow fall into oblivion.

She removes her apron and switches on the camera, then she wets her lips and takes a deep breath. "This is a message for General O'Neill and Dr Daniel Jackson." She closes her eyes for a moment, thinking about what really needs to be said. "First of all, I'd like to thank you both for allowing me to come here and also for keeping my secret. It's been an incredible year. I cannot tell you how being part of this expedition has changed my life. I've seen so many places, met so many wonderful people... I've come to love it here and I'm sad that the place we've learnt to call home soon will have to be relinquished. I know I told you back then that I had no hope for my future. I was just grateful at the time for the opportunity of being actually removed from the surface of the Earth. Just living there, no matter where, had become a constant nightmare – a reminder of what I had lived and what I had lost. Up until not long ago, I still felt the same and I remember, General, your pep talk about how I had to live and learn. I was very angry at the time that you suggested I would change my mind even though I can assure you I paid attention when you told me your own story. I'm still scared as hell to connect to people for the reasons I told you then but I have to admit I have indeed lived and learnt and even though I wish I could have been left alone, I am not and I do care for those people – all of them. Taking care of a part of their well-being has done wonders to my broken heart, keeping me busy, giving me a purpose in life when I had none left and for that too, I want to renew my thanks. I have to leave you now as it's time I get ready for the evening meal. We might as well have a treat if it's one of the last things we do. I thought a lot recently about your enthusiasm for my chocolate cakes back when I was training at the SGC. I'll make some in your honor. Major Sheppard seems to like them a lot too. I wish I could send a piece to you with this message. It was an honor to meet you. Au revoir."

She's shocked to realize that with those last two words, she's reverted to her native tongue without thinking about it. English has been her only language for so long, she never even dreams in French anymore. She gasps and hurries to switch off the camera. She sits for a while, not remembering what to do next, her mind stuck on her last two words that are swirling in her head. The meaning of it gradually reaches her conscious mind. She hasn't said farewell, just goodbye, a word that still holds hope.

She realizes she hasn't talked about the chicks but can't muster the courage to turn the camera back on again. She makes a mental note of telling Aiden to do it when he comes to retrieve the camera.

She glances at her watch and sees she's already late if she wants to get ready for the evening meal. People won't have time to sit at a table and enjoy their meal so she's opted for club sandwishes made with the last of the cheddar cheese they've brought here and some of the first hygroponic tomatoes they've harvested this morning. A little bit of both homes seems a nice enough symbol as they're getting ready to evacuate to whatever temporary alpha site John's team has found.

She's told General O'Neill she's planning on making chocolate cake, and chocolate cake they'll get, but she also notices the banana-like fruit they've recently bought are now ripe and it would be a shame to waste them so she decides to prepare chocolate and banana pies too.

When Aiden comes by to ask if she's finished with the camera, she barely registers his presence as she's deep into her preparations, ordering her assistants around, keeping them busy. She just nods when he asks about the camera and tells him to add a note about the chickens. She doesn't look at him and he sees she's got a permanent frown on her face, her back tense as she rolls out her dough to make her pie shells. He doesn't take offense as he knows this is her way of coping.

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

_Chapter 14 – Of wraps and donut holes_

 _We're reaching the end of Season 1. I hope you've enjoyed this story so far. Longer chapter to compensate for the tiny one I posted earlier on._

No one in the flagship team has seen her in days. They surmise she's doing fine so far because the food keeps coming their way, no matter the time of day or night. She's sent away most of her brigade and is coping almost single-handedly. They have abandoned all hope of making her evacuate to the alpha site and by now, nobody has time to try and talk her into it. John has offered Elizabeth to remove her by force from her kitchen but knows it's useless. Louise is more afraid of leaving her station and leaving them behind than bearing the anger from their leader. Besides, as she's yelled at him the second time he tried to reason with her, she feels safer here than offworld and knows "how to take care of" herself. He raises his hands at that in surrender and leaves after giving her a bear hug, which almost gives her a heart attack. John is uncomfortable with physical contact, like her.

So, she keeps them fed and barely leaves the kitchen. She's abandoned all pretense for a "decent meal", settling for easier dishes like wraps and any kind of finger food that can be nibbled at while they work their butts off. They don't complain though. As Rodney puts it just a few hours before the invasion, her food is "to die for". The pun is totally unintended and makes everyone in the lab giggle compulsively. He chokes on his sandwich and is only saved from a horrible yet ridiculous death by John who gives him the heimlich maneuver then sniggers at him that "really, Rodney, if I tell Louise you've puked her food all over your computer, she'll give you a talking to!"

On the day of the invasion, she sends her last stubborn assistant through the event horizon then takes a deep breath and trudges back to her kitchen. The mess hall is now as empty as a salad bar in Texas and so are the kitchens that seem eerily quiet, the humming from the fridges at the far end of the huge room the only noise that could disturb her peace. But peaceful she is not. She might want to look like she's in control, but she's far from that state. She's not afraid to die but if death comes, she realizes, she wants it to be quick. She hasn't encountered a Wraith herself but has heard the marines talking about it when waiting in line for breakfast. As much as she once would have welcomed it not so long ago, she's lived and learnt and doesn't want her last thought before she leaves this plane of existence to be about pain and horror.

She looks around but finds nothing to occupy her mind. The kitchen is spic and span, the fridges and walk-in coolers stacked with food for those who'll need it, and even the chicks have been evacuated to the continent. She can help chuckling at the memory of it.

" _Louise, really, sweetie, I don't have time for this!" John is standing in the middle of the room allotted to the coop, three floors down from the kitchen. Chickens are scurrying everywhere around their feet. Ford has been requisitioned to help them and is currently endeavoring to gather them on one side of the room so they can herd them into crates that will be transported to the mainland. Each time he thinks he's got them all, a couple of the most adventurous ones elude him and scurry back to where they came from._

" _Agh!" Ford growls in frustration. "Chef, your baby chicks are a pain in the neck!"_

 _She puts her hands on her hips and glares at him. "_ _My_ _baby chicks? Now, that takes the cake! They were still_ _your_ _baby chicks this morning when you were gushing about them to my staff at breakfast, uh?" She tilts her head to him, daring him to say otherwise._

 _He lifts his hands in surrender. "Whatever! They're a pain in the neck all the same!"_

 _John has crossed his arms on his chest and treating himself to a few moments of pure mirth at the sight of those two bickering. "Enjoying yourself, Colonel?" Louise sniggers._

 _He doesn't recoil from her seemingly aggressive tone as he knows she barks more than she bites. "Absolutely, Ms Léger!" he mocks her, not realizing the chickens have all defeated Ford's efforts to corner them and are now heading for the door they've left ajar._

" _John, damn it, pay attention! They're eluding us! Who left that damn door open anyway?" Louise groans in frustration. They've been at it for almost an hour and now, they're back to square one, or worse. If the chickens leave the room, they might as well use a whole contingent of marines to find them all. She has a sudden vision of grown-up, muscular men on all fours, trying to retrieve little screeching yellow balls from nooks and cranies. She snorts._

 _It's John's turn to glare at her. He lifts a menacing finger at her as he closes the door just in time before the first chicks try to push past it. "Don't! It's no laughing matter, Louise! I really have other fish to fry!"_

 _She snorts some more. "Not fish, John, not fish... They're chickens!" she mocks him under her breath but he hears her._

 _He glares at Ford too who's laughing his head off. "Get those chickens in the crates asap, Lieutenant, or so help me God, I'll put you in the brig for a whole month," he growls, exasperated. Louise leans towards Aiden as she helps him put the chickens in the crate. "He always threatens anyone who aggravates him with that one. Never does," she whispers, shaking her head, her eyes crinkling with mirth. "If you ask me, he should become more creative. He doesn't scare anyone anymore!"_

 _Aiden roars with laughter, making John walk briskly to them, looking very pissed. Aiden stands at attention, knowing even though it was Louise who had initiated it, he's crossed a line there. "Sorry, Sir," he apologizes hurriedly._

 _John chooses to ignore him, turning to the chef instead. She's still seemingly having the time of her life, a far cry from the shy petite woman he encountered not so long ago. He looms over her, his hazel eyes darkening. "Louise, I'm warning you. As much as I love you, you'd better end this right now! I don't have the time for your antics."_

 _She's gasped at the L word and looks as if she'd want nothing else but to disappear in the ground. Aiden is watching and it's making the whole thing even more embarrassing. "I'm not scared of you," she says in a small voice, choosing to ignore the elephant in the room._

 _He's realized too what he's just said and looks away for a second before training his sharp gaze on her again, deciding he needs to regain his composure. He can't be seen by anyone – even Ford – as a softie or soon mayhem will rule this City – that is, if they survive, he thinks sarcastically. "Well, you should," he says grabbing her arm and making her look into his eyes. "Because you seem to think you can get away with anything you do or say. Let me tell you something, sweetie. Your privileges go as far as I allow them. Period. And from the time being, you've used them up so you'd better walk the line if you don't want to end up in the brig and I mean it!" he adds before releasing her and stomping out. "Let her finish the job, Ford. It'll teach her a lesson. I'll send marines to carry them to the jumper when she's done," he barks over his shoulder as he leaves._

 _Aiden looks sorry for her. "Don't worry," he says, seeing her eyes fill with tears. "He's just on edge and he's got too much on his hands right now."_

" _I thought it would do him good to relax a little. See the chickens. Think about something else..." she whispers to herself._

 _Aiden closes the distance between them and rubs her arm gently. "Hey, it was a good idea. I know for sure he had a good time."_

" _So why did he suddenly yell at me like that? He must have known I was not trying to be disrespectful... Where did it all come from?" she wonders, rubbing her hands on her face, feeling a headache shoot through her temples._

" _Louise, if I may..." She looks up. "Colonel Sheppard is right about one thing. You and him – you have a special relationship. He does give you privileges no one else has. I think he's realized it's these same privileges that have allowed you to make the choice of staying here rather than being evacuated. It's plain to see he now regrets it."_

" _Why?" she cries out. "I'm not asking for his protection. I know I'll have to fend off for myself should we be confronted with an attack within the City. I'm not asking any of you to be my knight in shining armor."_

" _You don't get it. No matter what you say, he'll still feel the need to protect you and will be torn between protecting you and protecting the whole City. By stubbornly refusing to leave, you're making his job more difficult to accomplish."_

 _Her lowers lip starts trembling. "I'm sorry. I just can't, Aiden. It's beyond my control. I cannot leave you all. I need to stay here. I know it's stupid. I don't know how to use a gun or fight. I know I'd be useless. I just can't abandon ship."_

" _And he knows it, believe me. And I'm sure he understands. He lashed out at you because he's scared for you."_

" _Ford, are you coming or not?" he hears Sheppard bark in his communicator._

 _He rolls his eyes at her. "The dragon is calling. Sorry, got to go," he apologizes, kissing her cheek. "I'm on my way, Sir. Ford out."_

She sighs. She knows she's too on edge to listen to music or finish the novel whose reading she had to relinquish when she started working double shifts to compensate for the cooks who've been evacuated.

A small smile forms on her tight lips then it slowly spreads, warming her heart. She remembers how her grandmother used to say how making donuts holes was the only way she could calm her nerves during the German invasion. At the time, she was working for a well-off family in her hometown and those people, in spite of the restrictions, still had a pantry full of goods. Her granny had told her how some people had fled but some other had said they wouldn't let the war disrupt their habits – their courage and even recklessness the last rampart against tyranny.

She sets her Ipod to a selection of classical music – the kind that will both lift her spirits and soothe her nerves, making it possible for her to focus on her task. She sets to work, filling a couple of pots with oil that she is careful not to let boil. She gets what she needs from the pantry and fridge and starts making the dough, her mind lost in the memories of her childhood and her very first attempt at making the small balls of pure fluff, her body unconsciously swaying to the rhythm of Bach's Aria. She forgets about what's out there, beyond her realm, forgets about time and space and worries and regrets and guilt.

They haven't seen her in days but no one is really thinking about worrying about her anymore. The attack has come and gone and right now, John's eyes are peering at the screen in the control room with the flimsy hope of finding Ford who has disappeared from Atlantis and the planet altogether. They have few people left in the city but it's still much too many to identify who's who. Mayhem rules the place and after getting rid of Darts and Wraith, extinguishing fires and rescuing people, they are now trying to account for everyone, including Ford who is the most pressing matter though the fire alarm which has been sounding incessantly for more than half an hour now is really starting to get on everyone's nerves. Kind of the proverbial last straw on the camel's back.

"Can someone damn find a way to switch that off?" McKay yells, exasperated. "Why is that thing still on anyway when we've identified all fires and put them out from our viewpoint in the jumpers?"

"I don't know, Sir," the technician sitting at the next console answers patiently. "I do agree though. The systems confirm that all outside fires are now under control."

McKay snaps his fingers impatiently. "Outside, yes, that's it, outside!" He pushes the technician away from the console, making him yelp, not bothering to apologize even as he sees the disappoving look from Elizabeth. "The fire is inside!" She frowns but he stops her in her tracks as he sees her ready to intervene. "You need to send a team there, Elizabeth." She lifts her eyebrow questioningly. "The kitchens! There's a fire in the kitchens. Oh God, Louise is still likely to be there!"

He grabs a P90 and motions for a couple of marines to follow him. "Don't bother," he says as he hurries out of the room at a run, "I'll do it. It'll be faster if I do it myself anyway," he mumbles as he jogs to the next transporter with the two marines in tow, his body still running on the adrenaline it's been using steadily for the last hours.

Elizabeth has just confirmed to him on his headset that Ford has been found and beamed down in the infirmary. The worry in her voice has told him all he needs to know and has feared all along - the rescue mission was a partial success at best. Most people have been accounted for but they have about forty casualties from their first estimation and Rodney wonders when this nightmare is going to end.

The stench of burned meat is barely bearable the closer they get to the kitchens through the mess hall. The place is still empty and apart from a few strewn chairs, you'd think it's just an ordinary night on Atlantis. He lets the two marines go first and approach cautiously the doors to the kitchens. They're closed but as they approach slide open in a gentle and almost soundless whoosh. One of the marines updates Sheppard who cautions them on the intercom against jumping with both feet into a hornet's nest. Rodney sniggers. Look who's talking, he thinks but doesn't say it. His eyes are intent on the one red dot still shining on his device, indicating there's only one breathing being in the room left where not a couple of minutes ago there was still a second dot, though that latter was just flickering, not bright red. Rodney's heart sink. They're too late.

One of the marines raises his fist to signal a halt and peers into the darkened room now filled with smoke. The alarm is still sounding and it's obvious the reason is not a fire, only the smoke that is still swirling towards the detector.

What they see defies their imagination. Standing in the middle of the room, next to the long table that has been unceremoniously pushed aside and badly splintered from the shock, is their ordinarily reserved cook looming over the body of a horribly charred Wraith. She doesn't seem to register their presence. In her left hand, she's still holding a boning knife – the pointy kind you use to carve meat. Pots and pans and utensils are littering the floor. Now they're closer, it also smells like burned oil and doughnuts. Rodney glimpses at a large dish covered with greaseproof paper and filled with donut holes that have not had time to be powdered with confectioner's sugar. That explains the donuts but not the burnt oil, except if she was caught unawares by the Wraith while cooking and had had no time to switch off the gas.

They approach her cautiously. "Ma'am," one of the marines tries to attract her attention, in vain.

Rodney shakes his head. "Let me do it. Louise? Honey? We've come as soon as we realized something was off." He remains where he is but tilts his head to peer at her.

She doesn't move an inch but seems to register his presence and finally turns her gaze slightly towards him. Her eyes blink as if she were suddenly waking up from a transe. "Hi, Rodney," she whispers. "You're OK?"

One of the marines' eyebrows shoot to his hairline while the other gapes. Rodney chuckles softly. "You're asking me if I'm OK? This is so you, you know? In a sense, it's reassuring." She blinks at him again but doesn't answer. "I am fine," he says with a smile. "Now, what about you?"

She shakes her head slowly, as if trying to get rid of an unpleasant thought and shivers. "I'm OK, I guess..." She looks down at her hands and registers the presence of the knife. She examines it as if she were seeing it for the first time.

"Why don't you put that down, love?" Rodney suggests, motioning for the marines to lower their guns. She's no threat to them now she's woken up from her transe. She nods and puts it on the table then looks at the Wraith sprawled at her feet. She gulps. "What happened here?" she wonders.

"That's what we'd like to know, Ma'am," one of the marines answers then adds hurriedly as he sees the look of apprehension she gives him: "Not that we're complaining. We're just curious."

"Why don't we go and sit in the hall?" Rodney suggests, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and leading her out of the room while one of the marines stays behind and starts examining the place. Rodney can hear him report to Sheppard as they leave. He knows the 2IC must be torn at the moment between running to the infirmary to see Ford and getting to the mess hall to comfort Louise. He taps on his communicator. "Sheppard, this is McKay. She's OK. I'm taking care of things here. McKay out." John sighs in relief as he reaches the infirmary. Rodney sits Louise at one of the tables then turns to the marines. "Go make tea and while you're at it, find me candy or chocolate and her device to check her blood sugar level." He sees the man hesitate and huffs in frustration. "She's no threat now. Go, damn it!" The other man leaves relunctantly and Rodney sees him activate his headset as he goes, making sure Elizabeth or John back the decision Rodney has made. He rolls his eyes but couldn't care less.

He takes hold of her hands and finds them very cold so he rubs at them. Once she'll have a hot mug of tea to wrap her hands around, she won't feel so cold. What he's afraid of right now is her blood sugar level. She could have hypoglycemia and pass out or hyperglycemia in which case she might need insuline to lower the sugar level in her blood asap. Both options are possible in case of a fright like the one she must have had. He needs to check before giving her anything. "Rodney, this is Beckett. Respond." He rolls his eyes once more then checks his temper knowing Beckett couldn't know he's already onto it. "I'm on it, Dr Beckett. I'll call you as soon as she's tested it. Yes, I promise," he adds, hearing the good doctor telling him to take good care of her. As if, really! "McKay out," he says as he sees the marine coming back with the items he's asked for.

She wraps her hands compulsively around the warm cup and sighs in content. Rodney smiles at her but knows he must disrupt her peace for now. "Honey, I need you to do one little thing for me and then I'll let you drink your tea, OK?" She nods and unzips the small bag that holds her device and sets to work. Rodney sighs as he sees her level is not as bad as he had anticipated. He calls Beckett who tells him how much she needs and then pushes the bag of candy towards her. "Dr Beckett says it's time for a little treat." He winks at her and she starts eating slowly but doesn't seem to take pleasure in it. She looks forlorn. Rodney knows it's time to have a talk. He can see the second marine has joined them and is standing next to them expectantly.

"Want to tell me what happened down there?" Rodney asks motioning towards the kitchen area with his thumb. Her lips start to quiver. "Take your time," he adds hurriedly.

She glances at the marines then wraps her hands tightly around her cup once more. "I killed a living being, Rodney," she states in a breath. "I killed him and I don't think I'll ever be able to look at myself in a mirror. How could I?!"

She seems very upset. Rodney rounds the table and sits next to her then wraps his arms around her. He glares at one of the marines who sniggers and says: "Well, good job, Ma'am and good riddance. You should be proud of yourself for killing one of those blood-sucking monsters."

"He's right, honey, and you shouldn't beat yourself over it but I understand. Now, I'm sure you did it to protect yourself. Is it too early to tell us what happened?"

She starts shaking in his arms and he wraps them more tighly around her, rubbing gentle circles on her back with one hand. "Hush, love, it's OK. We're in no hurry."

"She doesn't need to tell us, Dr McKay, neither does Dr Beckett need to do an autopsy. It's plain obvious from the scene back there. I examined it closely. She threw scalding oil at the Wraith, probably several pots from the look of it. And then she finished him with the knife," one of the marines says. "I've already informed Major Sheppard. He's asking you to take her to the infirmary once she feels up to walking. He wants to make sure the bloodsucker didn't hurt her in any way."

Louise has shivered at the mention of the Wraith. She gently pushes Rodney away from her and stands, still holding her cup. "I'm ready to go." She laughs humorlessly. "It's a shame. I so used to love vampire stories..."

Rodney chooses to mock her to lighten the mood. "Yeah, well, only the sexy ones, right?" She smiles at him then retreats in her shell as they walk to the next transporter.

John welcomes them and wraps his arms quietly around her for a couple of seconds. "Are you OK?" he asks her. She nods quietly.

Elizabeth walks to her. "We're glad you made it, Ms Léger." It warms her heart to see all of them yet at the same time makes her anguish resurface, feeling guilty for not being true to her words and letting all these people into her heart.

Beckett reaches for her and gives her a hug. "Yes, we sure are, love. Now, I need you to come here," he orders, patting an examination table. Rodney discreetly heads for the door now he knows she's with friends and taps his headset. "Coming right back up to the Control Room," he informs the technician.

Meanwhile, Louise sighs but complies and lets Carson take her vitals. "Did we lose many people, Ma'am?" she asks Elizabeth, frowning with worry when she sees her hesitate.

"About forty," John simply says.

Her eyes fill with tears and Beckett's lips become a thin line. "Did you really need to tell her that?" he protests.

"Don't get aggravated, Dr Beckett. I would have been told in the end anyway," she chides him gently. He scowls. "What about your team, John? I don't see Teyla..." she realizes with a sense of foreboding.

"Teyla is OK, love," Beckett answers. "All done here!" he adds, helping her to her feet. "You're fine, considering..."

"How's Ford?" one of the marines who've come with Louise asks Elizabeth discreetly, or so he thinks, but it's already too late to repair the damage as he sees Louise turn her attention to their conversation.

"What's wrong with him?" she demands, her eyes wide.

"Let's say, honey, he didn't have pots of scalding oil to defend himself," Beckett winces. "If you'll excuse me, I need to attend to him." He disappears through a door at the back of the infirmary guarded by two marines armed to the teeth. Louise attempts to follow him but is stopped by John's curt voice: "No, you don't. Not until we know what to expect of him."

"But John, the kid must be scared and needs to be reassured by the presence of friends," she pleads.

"I said no," he replies. "If you want to help him, get him some dessert. When he feels better and can have it, it'll warm his heart." He sees her frown and elaborates: "I've been informed the kitchen has been cleared of the body and cleaned as best as we could in those circumstances. You might need to do a little bit more of cleaning yourself but it's basically safe and secure. Now, go," he orders her out and nods at one of the marines to escort her.

"Why did you send her back there?" Elizabeth asks, almost accusingly.

He feels like rolling his eyes but refrains from it. "She feels secure there, even after what happened, because it's her realm. I want her out of here if something gets awry with Ford and I'll be damned if I let her see the kid in that condition. It would be too much to take right now."

Beckett approaches them and explains what Ford's condition is at the moment now they have more results from the tests. The prospects and options they have to try and make him better are creepy but Elizabeth knows if there's one person who can help Ford, it's Beckett. She gives him the go ahead for the trial tests he needs to run. McKay calls them saying they need to get back to the Control Room.

She has left a whole tray for him in the infirmary but been told he's in no condition to eat or even see her yet. She's worried and on top of that, she's idle which she really hates, especially in a city full of people running everywhere to get ready for the next fight. She has set a whole buffet of cold food in the mess hall for the staff who can come anytime they want while they have a break and she's still got plenty of food left in the walk-in coolers. She feels useless and she hates every minute of it. She finally decides to go to the Control Room in the hope of getting Elizabeth's authorization to visit Aiden. She's also worried because John has left with the Deadalus. She feels like a mother hen, always wanting to have them where she can see them and take care of them – whatever that is because, let's face it, in spite of her latest stunt, she's no soldier.

She arrives in the Control Room at the worst time. They've just learnt the Deadulus couldn't stop the hives from reaching Atlantis and has suffered damage into the bargain. They're discussing strategy and do not see her. She does not approach Elizabeth's office but sits instead next to one of the technicians, looking embarrassed. He smiles at her. "You make great food, Ma'am," he says, before turning his attention back to his screen. "Especially the meatloaf, if I may say." She thanks him and relaxes a little and starts woolgathering about what she might cook in the days to come, chuckling inwardly at the concept that she's making plans for a future they might not even have.

She doesn't see him until he starts picking a fight in Weir's office and strangling Beckett and is whisked to the infirmary too fast for her to even talk to him. He looks awful and very agitated, somehow not the person she's come to dote on anymore.

Elizabeth orders her to come to her office and tries to calm her down as the tears can't seem to stop falling now. She hasn't cried when she killed the Wraith, hasn't really been that scared for her own well-being but now she's inconsolable.

When Ford steals a jumper a little later and disappears through the stargate, she shrugs off Rodney's hand on her shoulder as he tries to comfort her and heads for the kitchens without looking back. The image of Aiden's once youthful features haunts her as the last sight of him now replaces it – a cold and empty stare devoid of feelings as he looked right through her eyes - eyes that were silently pleading him to stay. All he did in return was avert his eyes and leave without so much as a parting word. She doesn't hear John state that they probably won't find him but she doesn't need to be told. The kid was lost to them the minute the Wraith plunged his hand into his chest.

TBC


	15. Chapter 15

_Chapter 15 – First night home , Part 1_

 _It's the beginning of season 2. A lot is changing for everyone on Atlantis..._

 _This chapter has been betaed by my dear friend Genie who writes wonderful stories for SG1. All remaining mistakes are still mine though!_

 _And one more thing. I've realized you might want to get your hands on a few recipes Louise uses. I've tested them all, of course. So I'll update some of the previous chapters (I already have for chapter 11) and make sure to post recipes at the end of some chapters from now on._

The next month passes in a blur. Once more, she barely sleeps at night, using the extra free time to try new recipes and prepare jam and fruit jelly bars. Winter has suddenly made its appearance, forcing Teyla to let her people fend for themselves as she holds the fort for Elizabeth and her flagship team while they've temporarily returned to Earth.

Louise has stubbornly refused to follow them, arguing someone needs to stay behind to feed the troops, as she says. Elizabeth has decided to humor her after seeing how scared she is of going back and leaving what she's finally allowed herself to call "home". She's having a hard time coping with Ford going AWOL and her encounter with the Wraith though, she refuses to talk about either to anyone, her walls up so high even Rodney worries she might never let them in again.

Beckett has first tried to keep her in the infirmary, her blood sugar level going on a constant roller coaster for days on end, making her cranky and exhausted. When he's seen how frightened she was of staying there, he's relented, only asking her to allow someone from the team to check on her a couple of times a day, praying it will be enough, worried she might forget to eat altogether and faint without someone around. They're all very sad because of Ford's disappearance but she seems to be taking it worth than anyone.

"She looks like she's lost her own child," John remarks one day in passing to Elizabeth.

She nods. "I do agree. I wonder if it was such a good thing for her to connect to people here, after all. Whatever happened to her in her past, she might not have been ready for this. It seemed like such a good idea to include her in your team at the time, but with hindsight..." She gives him a tense smile.

"It was, really, it was. It's just a bummer it had to be Ford who had to leave that way. You know," he adds, shaking his head in disbelief, "it kind of boggles my mind. She was strong enough to fight and win against a Wraith but she can't accept losing Ford. It's as if her compassion were stronger than her instinct to stay alive."

"I wish she'd come to Earth with us. She needs to keep her mind off the whole thing until I figure out how to send her to the therapist. Finding one who can cope with our expedition's special needs is in my top priorities, for her sake as well as many other ones in our City," she answers, frowning.

John doesn't want to worry her more than needed and doesn't voice out his disagreement. He has an inkling Louise will never accept to sit and pour out her life story to anyone, let alone a psychiatrist.

When she's not on duty, she spends her time on the mess hall's balcony, looking at the ocean, yet not seeing it, her mind trapped in the whirlwind of her guilt. _I should be the one who got hurt, not him, not so young. I'm the one who didn't wish to live. How come I'm still alive and well and he's not? Destiny is a bitch, letting those who didn't deserve it live while innocents get killed or hurt. How many times am I gonna have to live through this?_

At night, when only the skeleton crew remains on duty, she's seen walking the corridors, pacing, trying to find the sleep that eludes her. She's worried sick for those who've gone back to Earth. What if something happened to them there or on their way back? She knows it's ridiculous because she can't protect them. There's no magic in this world, only the ugly truth of pain and suffering and finally dying – not like in the books she reads and the series she watches to alleviate her anguish when she can't take it anymore.

She often falls asleep in the TV room, after hours of watching the same stories over and over again until they lull the pain for now. But the next morning, the same process returns, making her suffering endless. She's been trapped in her mind for so long, she doesn't know how to end it. She wishes she could be both with those who have gone back to Earth and those who have stayed behind. Aiden's demise has triggered a chain reaction that seems impossible to stop. She's finally snapped – seeing no matter how hard she tries, she can't help caring about people and hurting like hell when they die. She can refuse to call them friends, it won't change a thing. Accepting it though...

She drowns herself into work not to think too much. Her happiest times are when her hands and mind are busy, working on recipes, replenishing the stocks, writing a cookbook with the favorite recipes of each member of the expedition she's already encountered. John's French toast, Rodney's cinnamon rolls, Aiden's apple pie, Teyla's cookies, Hallin's fudge brownies, Elizabeth's chocolate cupcakes, Beckett's shortbreads and so many others including her own lemon pie. The indigant look that Rodney had given her the first time she'd made it was priceless and is still one of her fondest memories – times when she'd been able to relax and laugh, albeit at his own expense for looking so stuck up.

She also writes an entry for Kavanagh's disgust of her vegetable crumble and renames it with his name – just because she can. After all, it's her own cookbook and life's short and sad and she needs to cling to all the humor she can still muster. After writing pages of it, she feels better, but sleep still eludes her most of the time and when it doesn't, she has fitful dreams.

She's standing at the balcony overlooking the gate room as the command crew is beamed down from the Daedalus. The knot in her stomach suddenly loosens as she accounts for them all. She feels ridiculous for being such a mother hen – for knowing she'll still keep them at arms' length to protect herself and yet care about them anyway. Once she's made sure they're all safe and sound, she turns tail and disappears towards the commissary. She tells herself they're probably very busy at the moment and she doesn't want to be underfoot. Truth is, she can't take the surge of relief she can feel and doesn't want to make a fool of herself. She knows for a fact they'd be awfully embarrassed to get bear hugs from the cook in front of the new crew members who are filing in at the moment into the gate room.

Elizabeth's eyes follow her as she exits the room hurriedly. "Where's Louise?" Rodney asks excitedly. "I have a present for her. I missed her."

John sniggers. " Course you did! You whined the whole time the food was not up to your expectations."

Rodney stares him down. "I will not even answer that. So, where is she?" he asks Teyla.

She motions towards the mess hall. "She was here when you arrived but left a couple of minutes ago after she'd made sure you'd all come back." She turns to Elizabeth. "She's had a hard time, what with Aiden gone and you all having left for Earth. I hope things will get back to normal now you've returned. She needs her comfort zone more than I had imagined."

Elizabeth and John exchange a worried look. "We'll go and see her as soon as we're done here."

He's finally finished with the armory. They've brought a whole cargo of weapons and ammunitions. It couldn't wait but all the time he has been monitoring his new recruits opening the crates and checking the supplies, his mind has been elsewhere – precisely two levels up, hoping Elizabeth has found a way to make things easier. Making things right though is a lost battle.

He curses himself for not finding a way to fight them more back there – make them listen and understand. He calls himself selfish. Letting them win is as good as a betrayal. You don't give up on people. He's said it so many times and never for a minute believed it only applied to the military. He curses himself for being so lame. She's been there for them so many times and has been through so much!

If he remembers properly, those are the exact same words he's mumbled through clenched teeth at General Landry, bordering on disrespect when told the decision was final. _Of course,_ he reflects bitterly _, now they are again in contact with Earth and know the Daedalus will make the round trip regularly, plenty of people have suddenly applied to positions on Atlantis._ Being sent to an unknown destination with only the flimsy hope of returning to Earth some day has been replaced by the promise of a weekly contact with the SGC and the possibility of returning to Earth on a regular basis. _The Pegasus galaxy does look enticing now,_ he thinks bitterly. _Who knows? Soon enough, people working on the Stargate Program will come to see it as a simple commute from the Milky Way._

Louise really didn't deserve to be treated that way but of course, someone obviously had much greater pull than she does and Elizabeth couldn't fight and win all her battles. He curses the IOA too and those big brass in Washington D.C. For Louise, Atlantis is home, but for them it's just one more pawn on a much greater game.

He drops by at his quarters to shower and change and grab what he's brought for her from Earth and heads towards her quarters, suddenly realizing he's never been there. He taps his headset and calls Chuck. "This is Sheppard. I need to know where Louise Léger resides. Can you guide me there?" he asks.

"Your guess is as good as mine, Sir. I'm not sure where she is at the moment but I can tell you which quarters were first assigned to her. She's one level down from your own quarters, Sir. At least, that's where she's supposed to be. I was informed months ago when we checked the life sign detectors that the place had never been occupied. She does have a room with bathroom attached allotted to her at the back of the kitchens though."

John shakes his head angrily. "She won't be there. She's just been kicked out by the new chef," he barks.

Chuck cringes. "I didn't know, Sir."

John sighs. "I'm sorry. It's been a long day. I need to get to her. Just tell me which way to go. If I don't find her in her quarters, I'll call her."

He passes his hand over the sensor, making her know someone's at the door. She doesn't answer but he's sure he's heard noise inside. He insists. "Leave me alone, whoever you are!" she yells through the door.

"Louise, it's me, John. Please, let me in. I won't stay if you don't want me to but I need to know you're alright," he pleads.

"I'm alright! Now, go!" she yells back. He can hear the telltale sign in her voice – she's choking on her words, as if she'd been crying.

He growls in frustration and taps his headset. The hell he'll let her cry alone! "Chuck, this is Colonel Sheppard again. I need you to open Ms Léger's door for me."

Chuck gasps then whispers in his communicator: "Sir, I can't do that unless it's a matter of life or death! These are private quarters..."

"Ask for Elizabeth's permission," John relents, tapping his foot impatiently, his arms crossed. He hears the other man relay the information.

Elizabeth must be in the Control Room because he hears her voice on his headset almost immediately. "John, you have a go but please, I'm begging you, be tactful."

He rolls his eyes. "I always am! Don't you know me? I'm the epitome of tactful!" he banters.

"Yes, I know you all right, John Sheppard!" she chuckles. "Please, don't make things worse. Weir out."

He chimes on the door a third time. "Louise, I'm coming in." The door wooshes open. He peers into the room.

She's standing on the far end, a stack of books in her hands. She drops them when she sees him. "Who gives you the right?" she demands, trying to keep her temper at bay, tears brimming in her already reddened eyes.

"Elizabeth and also the fact I'm your friend," he answers coolly, daring her with a lifted brow to counter him.

She pouts then shrugs. "Well, make yourself at home." She grabs the books, turns her back on him and sets to work as if he were not there.

"Louise, look at me," he pleads, still not daring to move. She silently shakes her head so he walks tentatively towards her, making her turn.

She frowns, trying to keep her temper at bay. "Don't!"

"I missed you! We all missed you! Please, don't keep us at arms' length." He tilts his head, waiting for a sign she's OK with him coming closer.

She takes a deep breath, her bottom lip shaking, so he closes the distance between them and wraps his arms tightly around her, feeling relieved when she does the same. "I missed you too," she whispers through her tears.

After a couple of minutes, she finally finds the courage to disentangle herself from him and takes a step back, brushing away her tears with the back of her long-sleeved shirt. "I thought Rodney would be the first to come by," she says in passing. He can hear the tinge of hurt. He chuckles. "He would have beaten me here if he'd been allowed to do so but Elizabeth was adamant about him checking in all the new equipment he's brought in. Besides," he adds, looking sour, "you have to understand he doesn't know yet. Dr Weir and I – and probably quite a few people by now – know. I might need to assign a bodyguard to Buckley before McKay finds out. Rodney's your biggest fan, you know?" he teases her, making her smile.

She becomes silent again and sits on the edge of the bed. "So you knew?" she prods. There's no accusation in the question, just surprise.

He pulls the chair next to the desk closer so he sits in front of her. "Elizabeth told me before we left Earth. Sweetie, you have to understand. I tried to fight them on that. I even talked to General O'Neill about it. He's sending his regards, by the way." She nods curtly. She likes the guy very much – both for his good looks and dry sense of humor, as well as his consideration when they met. And yet, she realizes, he hasn't fought for her this time.

"I understand, John. You're not the one making decisions here..." She lets it hang in there between them until he realizes what she means.

"No, no, you don't get it. Elizabeth fought them hard too. There was nothing she could do." She snorts disdainfully and he realizes he won't win that one. She needs to be told by Elizabeth herself but right now, she's too wound up to listen. "All I can tell you is the guy is Senator Ted Stevenson's nephew." He tries to squeeze her hand but she eludes him, looking shocked.

"Buckley's his nephew? The same guy who tried to take away the SGC's chef's position?" He looks at her nonplussed. "Major Lawrence trained me before we left for Atlantis. Very nice person. He gave me a very efficient crash course on cooking for large staffs. I heard rumors Senator Stevenson's nephew had tried to steal his job by using his uncle's connections. General Landry put his foot down but most of all won because of ranks. Apparently the guy was barely out of cooking school." She thinks about it then adds bitterly: "I didn't stand a chance, did I?"

He falls silent too. Sometimes, there's nothing you can do but be there. She seems lost in her thoughts and he respects that. Silence settles in and he looks around. Boxes and a couple of travel bags have been dropped unceremoniously on the floor. Books are sitting on shelves above the bed. No sheets or blanket adorn it at the moment as she's obviously tried to occupy her hands by rummaging through her cherished books rather than settling for good. He knows it'll take time for her to accept these new quarters.

He stands and walks round, touching the few personal objects she's set on the desk – a frame, her tablet, the thick copybook she's using to write her recipes in, an older looking one that she's left open on the dessert section where he sees someone has written further instructions in the margin in an elegant yet old-fashioned penmanship...

"I live just one level up from you. We're practically neighbors," he mentions in passing, briefly glancing at her, hoping she'll look on the bright side of things. She nods but does not answer. "You have quite a collection of cookbooks here," he adds. She smiles. "It kind of runs in the family," she finally answers. He knows she can't resist talking about her favorite subject. He takes hold of the pewter frame sporting the sepia photograph of a young petite woman with her hair in a bun dressed in a long dress probably dating back to the 1910s. "Your grandmother?"

She smiles and nods vehemently. "Léonie," she elaborates. "Her maiden name was Léger too. I asked to be allowed to use her name when I came to your country, as a tribute to her." He realizes this is one of the several skeletons in her closet she mentioned to him once. She used to have another name and for some reason decided to relinquish it. He frowns so she adds hurriedly, seeing his unease: "I felt more like a Léger than anything else. My grandmother raised me, not my parents. She lived at home and, to me, she was my real mother. My parents never bothered with me. They always had something more important to do..." she explains sadly, then brightens up: "But to be honest, I was lucky to have my grandmother. She taught me everything while she was still alive."

He smiles at her reassuring. She's always so afraid of doing or saying something wrong. "So I gather the cookbook is hers too, right?" he asks, peering at the instructions in the margins. Her eyes crinkle with love, making his heart lighter.

He raises his finger, his eyes warming with joy. "I brought something for you," he singsongs, walking to the door and retrieving a large package from the corridor.

"You shouldn't have," she answers hurriedly, obviously embarrassed by the attention.

He pouts. "Stop saying that. Yes, I should! Now," he adds, sitting the package on her bed carefully, "open it, lady!" He crosses his arms and waits impatiently as she cautiously does as instructed. He growls. "Oh, come on, tear it open, damn it! You're killing me here!" She laughs out loud and humors him though she's always hated damaging pretty wrapping papers and she has an inkling of what he's brought her. She gapes at the gift though, not knowing what to say. "Well?" he asks, disappointed. "Ya don't like it?"

"Of course, I do! But it's really too much. You know I'll never manage to stand on a board!"

He rolls his eyes. "Nonsense. You can and you will! I'll be your personal coach once the summertime returns. We'll go surfing every week even if I have to drag you out there and away from your kitchen!" he says then clamps his mouth shut at the enormity of what he's just said.

"I have an inkling, Colonel, time won't be of the essence from now on," she retorts, tilting her head.

"Sorry," he says, looking sheepish.

She laughs in spite of the weight settling on her stomach again. "No puppy looks, Colonel. They don't work on me!" She tucks her tongue out at him, making him laugh, relieved she's still got her sense of humor.

He helps her tidy her room and then walks her to the Control Room where Elizabeth has asked them to join her, making her pass in front of his own quarters so she knows where she can find him when he's not on duty.

TBC


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16 - First night home, Part 2

He's dreading the interview with Elizabeth. She's told him on his headset they'll then be joined by the new chef. This can't be good. Louise will still have to work with him, but being forced to stay in the same room under the scrutiny of their leader so soon after the shock of the first encounter seems like a very bad idea. He's not in charge though and knows for a fact Elizabeth, though a great diplomat, believes that in some situations, the best response is to rip the band aid off.

He walks into the office, not letting Elizabeth bully him into leaving Louise alone with her, and sits in the other chair in front of her desk then takes hold of Louise's hand. Elizabeth is almost shocked by the gesture. He's not one for physical contact, at times even giving her the impression it makes him want to run away.

 _He's acting with Louise like she's his sister, considering it his duty to protect her. This can't be good,_ she notices inwardly. Sheppard is not the most patient of men and when put in the position of defending his "men" and she knows that includes herself and Louise, he might become rash. The new cook might as well watch his back.

"Ms Léger," she greets her with a smile only to be met by an ice-cold disdainful glare. She schools herself and chooses to ignore it. "I have asked you to join me so soon after our return because I believe some things need to be dealt with without further ado."

"I bet you do," Louise mumbles, her jaw set. Elizabeth gasps at the disrespectful remark.

John squeezes Louise's hand. "Please," he whispers beggingly in her ear, "listen to what she has to say. I can assure you she's as sad and disappointed as I am."

Louise snorts but relents. "I'm listening, Ma'am."

Elizabeth nods. "You have to understand, Ms Léger, I'm greatly upset by what has been imposed on me. The change of command in the kitchen was never my doing. I wish I could have done something..." She lifts her hand, seeing Louise ready to intervene, knowing what she's going to tell her. "I'm not finished, Ms Léger. Hear me out and only then will you be allowed to pass your own judgment. The trip back to Earth was anything but a walk in the park. You were not there so let me draw a clear picture for you," she adds more bitterly than she intended to let on, making John flinch and Louise raise her eyebrows. "Yes, Ms Léger, it was not the kind of vacations we had hoped for. See, they first started by challenging most of the decisions we had made. Then, they tried to take John away from us and replace him with Colonel Caldwell."

Louise raises her eyebrows in alarm and turns to John. "But I thought you'd been promoted?"

"I am. Because Elizabeth fought for me and told them to do so if it was the only thing keeping them from giving me the permanent position of 2IC on the City." He nods his gratitude at Elizabeth.

Louise turns to her leader. "Thank you, Ma'am. I cannot imagine Atlantis without John to protect us all."

Elizabeth nods graciously. "I couldn't win all my battles though, Ms Léger and I'm sorry to say I have lost yours."

Louise nods her understanding then looks away. Sacrifices have to be made in every war, she's aware of that.

"What is going to happen to me?" she asks, her eyes boring into her leader's.

Elizabeth squares herself. "You'll be under the direct order of the new chef. You'll manage the prep cooks. You'll still go on missions, of course. I've been very adamant about that. I still need to discuss a few things with the new chef, though, and this is why I've asked him to join us."

Louise looks away. She doesn't want to have to talk to the jerk ever again. It was already very painful the first time and she's not one to turn the other cheek, in spite of all the compassion she normally has. She tells Elizabeth so.

"You have to understand I want you here when I state my conditions, Ms Léger. He's already disobeyed my orders by rushing into the kitchen as soon as we had disembarked and gloating about who he was, then having your belongings removed so he could replace you immediately. He needs to know who's the boss here and where I stand concerning the food service." Her lips become a thin line as she taps her headset and tells Chuck they're going to the conference room.

The doors open as they reach them. He's already sitting at the table and doesn't make the effort to stand as they file into the room, not seeing John who's lagging behind, trying to keep his temper at bay. He's met the guy before and loathes him. Buckley only stands up hurriedly as he sees his commander enter the room and stands at attention. "Sir," he greets him. John glares at him so he turns to Elizabeth and nods curtly. "Ma'am."

What Louise doesn't know is that they've already had a a few run ins with him, noticeably one during their first encounter and one on the ship when he yelled at one of the ship's cooks who hadn't been fast enough to serve him what he wanted. Elizabeth dislikes him as much as John does and knows his presence here will only spell trouble. He's a conceited prick who treats everyone around him with disrespect and disdain but contrary to Rodney, he's not even a genius, just a guy whose uncle happens to be very influential.

"Standing when someone enters a room, Mr Buckley," Elizabeth chides him, "be they the military commander, the leader of the expedition," she insists on her title, making him flinch, "or a lady who also happens to be older than you, is a lesson you'd better learn quickly."

He narrows his eyes at her, silently daring her "or what?" but answers instead: "Yes, Ma'am. Of course, Ma'am." His insistence is bordering on disrespect.

She sits and he starts sitting too but stands abruptly when she remarks: "I haven't given you permission to sit... yet, Mr Buckley." He sees John and Louise are respectfully waiting for Elizabeth's go ahead to do so themselves, making him flush with resentment.

She exchanges a silent glance with John then motions for the three of them to take their seats. John remains close to Louise as expected. Elizabeth regards Buckley coolly for a long time. "I have ordered you to come here," she says, choosing to be authoritative, "to be introduced to Ms Léger properly. You might as well, since you too need to work together. I cannot emphasize how important it is to our expedition that we may not have to worry about the food service on top of everything else."

He looks unhappy. "If I may be so bold as to suggest something, Ma'am, I thought she might realize her time here was done and she'd go back to Earth with her own staff. Most of them are leaving, which is a good thing anyway as they're being made redundant by the arrival of my own staff. I'm sure she'll be allowed to apply to a cooking position in government services somewhere. If that can help, I can ask my uncle to make a few phone calls," he adds arrogantly.

John growls, making him jump. "What the hell?"

Elizabeth lifts her hand to stop him. "Colonel Sheppard, if I may..."

He crosses his arms defensively on his chest, his jaw set, but relents.

Louise looks at Elizabeth in disbelief. "My staff is leaving?" Buckley sniggers but doesn't dare talk.

Elizabeth nods. "Yes, Louise. You have to understand they need a reprieve. There is going to be quite a turnover here. Most of them have asked to be stationed back on Earth. They have families and the separation was more difficult than they had anticipated. The thrill of discovering Atlantis has been replaced for most of them by homesickness. Having the opportunity to secure a position in a safer environment coupled with seeing their loved ones again did the rest. Only Private Ridgeway and Private Wilson have asked to remain with you. I'm of course very grateful for their presence," she says, looking pointedly at Buckley, making him understand it's non-negotiable. "as they'll be much needed for the position you three will hold from now on."

"Namely?" Buckley cuts her off, ignoring Louise as well who hasn't been allowed to put her two cents in though it's her future that is at stake.

Elizabeth stares him down. "First of all, let's make this clear. You will not talk about Ms Léger as if she were not in the room. She's not a she but a person of flesh and blood who deserves to be treated with respect. Louise might have arrived here as a cook but she's soon become much more than the provider of our daily meals," she says, making him understand he's just that and nothing else. "You have thought wrongly by barging in the kitchens ahead of time that the place was all yours. Let me rephrase the job description for you. As much as it pains me to have to move Ms Léger out of the quarters she's called hers for so long, I agree that I cannot deny you the accommodation that goes with your job's description. This being said, Mr Buckley, the job itself does not allow you to hold full possession of the whole kitchen and storage area. Right now, we're lucky enough the Daedalus is replenishing our food supplies with Earth-produced staples but we've learnt the hard way things might not always be that simple. This expedition was at first designed to become self-sufficient in every sense, food included, and I'll make sure it remains that way. Ms Léger will need to experiment on new food brought in by our expeditions. She has more experience on that than you obviously so I expect you'll learn along with her."

He glares at her only to look away when he hears John clear his throat menacingly. "Since we're discussing the job description, Ma'am," he answers cockily, "the former cook was described as my under-cook if I recall properly..." He's baiting her, daring her to say otherwise so he'll be able to complain to his oh-so important uncle.

"If I may answer that one, Dr Weir," Louise offers shyly. Elizabeth motions for her to go on. "As you'll soon discover, we all multi-task here, pulling long hours, so it won't be a problem for me to work on three different jobs."

He blanches at the mention of overtime but recovers quickly. She's met so many people like him on her former job, she knows they're in for difficult times.

"Of course," he nods disdainfully. "And yet, adjustments will have to be made. Quality food service requires the staff to be disciplined but also well-rested if one doesn't want to have accidents in the kitchen area. Of course, you're not a professional so you don't see things like us. I was told you had only recently joined the trade..."

"Well, Buckley," John doesn't let Louise answer him, "you'll have to understand you yourself will have to adjust as well. You're on Atlantis here, not some random canteen on Earth. Food is served round the clock if need be. We have people working night and day, teams coming back at the oddest hours and needing to be fed, emergency situations, you name it. Office hours do not apply here as I'm sure you must have been informed. If you're smart, you'll allow Louise to guide you through the maze of your new life here. It might save your ass quite a few times." He sees Louise's lips turn up just a bit. Touché! He's quite proud of himself as he sees the other man's facial expression – a mixture of worry, disappointment and anger.

John glances nonchalantly at his watch. "Wow, now, it's already quite late. Ma'am, I need to have my new crew settled. Do you mind if I leave you to it?" She motions for him to go. He stands and turns towards the new cook. "What's for dinner?"

The guy blanches once more as he peers at his watch too. "Well, I dunno..." he stutters. "I didn't have time to settle."

Elizabeth stares him down once more. "Come on, chef. You've taken the time to kick out Ms Léger and her staff and unpack your own personal belongings, I was told. You surely must have had time to prepare something for dinner!" she mocks him.

He opens and closes his mouth.

"I'll prepare dinner, Ma'am, if you allow me. I mean if the new cook allows me and my crew back in his kitchen," Louise adds mockingly, knowing he might not have any say in the matter if he doesn't want to have a mutiny in the mess hall on his very first day.

Elizabeth and Buckley just nod but she sees Elizabeth wink at her. "What will you treat us to, Ms Léger? I must say I've missed both yourself and your cooking."

Louise smiles at her, her heart warmed by the words of kindness and praise. She makes a quick decision, appraising the stocks in her mind. "I don't have much time left. Would one of my omelets with bacon, herbs and potatoes plus a green salad with crumbled goat cheese and a red berries and orange crumble do? I know it's probably not what you had in mind but at least it will be ready on time," she offers.

Elizabeth's eyes crinkle with mirth. "Yes, Ms Léger, I think we can very well make do with that!"

TBC

 _ **Extract from Louise's Cookbook**_

 _for 4 people you need about 4 cups of any berries you have, preferably with different types  
½ cup sugar  
3 tbsp of cornstarch  
one orange (zest and juice)  
topping:  
1/3 cup of brown sugar  
1 cup of all purpose flour and ½ cup almonds  
½ cup of Unsalted Butter, cold and cut into chunks_

 _Preheat oven to 375 degrees.  
Toss together the berries, orange juice, orange zest, and cornstarch. Pour the berries in a casserole dish.  
Combine the flour, brown sugar, almonds, then add the butter and mix the butter in the flour mixture with your fingers. Scatter on top of the berries and bake for 40 to 45 minutes or until the top is golden brown and the bottom is bubbly._


	17. Chapter 17

_Chapter 16 – Meat Loaf_

 _Unbetaed. From now on, expect the story to pick up speed. I'm trying to keep it as canon as possible so major spoilers for quite a few episodes. Also I'll try to include more recipes. Hope you're still enjoying this. So, on with the show._

She's clearing the tables as people come and go in the mess hall. It's midday's action stations as most people on duty in the city have been awake since sometimes before dawn and need a well-earned break.

She didn't use to help out in the hall before but everyone's schedule in the food service department has recently been changed by the new chef and a lot of people have complained that they couldn't find a clean table to sit at so she's helping out when she can. She's still not very comfortable with being among so many people and is looking forward to her moment of peace and quiet when there's a lull in the service right in the middle of the afternoon though she'll still need to prepare the evening meal.

Her hands are full of dirty dishes as she's trudging through the hall among the tables of chattering scientists and marines, woolgathering about everything that still needs to be done before she's finally allowed to head back to her quarters. Gosh, does she miss her former ones at the back of the kitchen area! At least, when her day was over, she would have some time alone to herself to sit at the table with one of her books, even do some stock assessment and have a hearty cup of coffee or when she felt too windy, some hot green tea brewed with fresh mint and sweetened with honey – her special treat at the end of the day when she feels she's worked too much and might have to take a supplementary dose of glucose.

She's smiling at the thought when she jumps with fright at the feel of someone grabbing her arm. She drops the metal tray holding the dishes. It clatters onto the floor making everyone yelp in fright. It's not unknown on Atlantis to be suddenly attacked and, by now, everyone is jumpy every time everything unusual happens.

The hand that grabbed hers is still on her arm but has loosened its grip. Everyone around is standing and looking at odds. She herself feels her heart skip a beat, then two, then three... Until she hears John's reassuring voice: "Alright, everyone, please sit down and relax. False alarm as you can see. If anyone can ask for some help cleaning this mess, I'd greatly appreciate it. That will be all. Thank you." His hands are up in the air in a gesture of peace, motioning to people at the nearest table to sit slowly, his eyes trained on Louise. "It's alright, sweetie. I've got you. Now, Ronon, please let go of the lady," he says in a very quiet tone, as if talking to an angry child.

The hand is still on her arm and she's afraid to look that way. If it's the new guy they've brought back with them a few days ago, she doesn't want to have anything to do with him. Rodney's vivid description was quite enough for her. She can feel the hair on her nape stand straight, indicating potential danger, so she doesn't dare move.

"I said, please," John insists, his hand resting on his side arm, eyebrows lifting threateningly. The hand releases her slowly and she finally allows herself to turn cautiously towards him. She sees a giant of a man pushing his dreadlocks away from his face and casually sitting back at the table, shrugging. "I didn't mean no harm, Sheppard. Just wanted to congratulate the cook on her food. She makes a mean meatloaf, if you ask me," he says gruffly.

John breathes in angrily. "I'm not asking you, Dex. And if you wanted to thank her, you could be civilized and introduce yourself first, damn it. You almost gave her a heart attack." He wraps his arm around Louise's shoulders as she starts breathing hard and sits her gently on his side of the table. "There, I've got you. Everything is going to be alright. He's not a threat to you – except if you turn into a Wraith or something," he adds, smirking at Ronon. "You really need to work on your manners, big guy," he tells the Satedan.

People have called for some help and a couple of dishwashers are in the process of cleaning up the mess created by the commotion. Louise tries to stand. "You don't need to do that. I'm the one who did it. I'll clean it up."

John growls and forces her to sit. "No, you did not and you certainly will not. Ronon did it, so to speak. He should be the one cleaning it up. Unfortunately, we need to settle this first."

The two privates who are finishing the cleaning nod at Sheppard. "It's OK, Sir. We were told you needed help. No foul. It's part of the job description anyway," one of them replies before standing and saluting. They head towards the back door.

"That's right, you know," John points out for Louise's benefit. "It is part of their job description – not yours," he adds, pouting.

She shrugs. "What needs to be done needs to be done, John."

He laughs humorlessly. "Very smart one," he sniggers. "I don't see why you had to do this in the first place. You never did before. What has changed?"

She shrugs, embarrassed by his question. "Don't know. Guess with the increase in population around here, there's more work to be done..."

"Well, sweetie, it might be time to tell Elizabeth to hire more people in that case," he suggests.

"Not my call anymore, remember," she replies, making a face.

He looks away, ashamed he had forgotten about that very small detail. "I'll tell her myself, then," he says, making her look up in alarm.

"Don't!" He eyes her suspiciously. She looks ashamed but knows he won't let go. "He'll say it's coming from me and will report me. I'm the under-cook now. I'm supposed to manage those things," she elaborates. He sets his jaw, feeling anger flare.

"Hey! Don't understand much about all this," Ronon barges in, "but I was in the process of trying to compliment the lady on her cooking..."

They both turn to him, amazed. He's created this mess and now sounds hurt no one is paying attention to his feelings! "Ronon, really! I mean..." John is caught between the need to yell at him for Louise's sake and the almost unbearable hitch to start laughing his head off. The guy is unbelievable! He's in the process of choosing the first and only acceptable option when he sees Louise's eyes. They're crinkling in a very tell-tale sign though the rest of her face remains expressionless for the moment so he chooses the second instead. She soon joins him in the merriment, to Ronon's utter amazement. From what he had surmised the few times he had glanced at her from afar and from this more recent and apparently disastrous encounter, he had not pinned her for the merry kind. _She looks like a little mouse, always afraid to join in the hustle and bustle of the city – not the kind who will laugh at your expense._ He's intrigued, which is one of the wonders he's discovered in this city – not taking his emotions for granted anymore, not judging by the book cover either.

"So..." Louise says, trying not to laugh. "You like my meatloaf?" He nods enthusiastically. She chuckles. "Which one?" she prods nastily, knowing she has only served the oatmeal one recently, seeing as the new chef hates everything remotely French, even Cajun food, because as he remarked disdainfully the day she offered to make her spicy one, "Isn't that food invented by those damn French migrants from the Bayou? I'll not have that kind of food served while I'm here. Understood?" he'd yelled at her, making her recoil from the violence of the tone and the implied contempt – for her, her ancestry and probably anyone different from him. For the moment and as long as no one has cried out for it, she's not ready to fight over it, knowing by now how he can make her life a living hell.

"I don't know the name of it, lady, but I can assure you I'll know how to eat anything you put in my plate!" he replies with a satisfied grin and tucks at the heap of food in front of him to prove his point.

She and John cringe, seeing the way he uses his fork. "It was even worse before," John mouthes to her. "He gets better as days go by..." He smirks and winks at her, making her giggle. John sits upright, feeling proud for making her laugh like a girl, not smile at him sadly as she used to most of the time when they first met.

"Heard ya," Ronon says, his mouth full, his head still down as he concentrates on finishing his plate as if his life depended on it.

John chuckles and pats Louise's hand. "We'll turn the caveman into a civilized gentleman someday," he banters, ignoring him. "And when we do, he might even have his seat at our Friday night table..." he adds, waggling his eyebrows, making her giggle some more.

"Party?" Ronon suggests, suddenly forgetting about the food in his plate. He gulps down his goblet of water in one go, making Louise flinch, afraid he might choke, but he doesn't and looks really pleased with himself for scaring her.

John peers at him. "We'll see..." Ronon look at him expectantly. "If you try to behave, we might accept you... But only if Louise does, OK?" John exchanges a look with her and winks. Ronon makes a mental note of asking his new friend when the time comes for swapping little secrets, what's between them two that makes them so close.

"Léger? What the hell are you doing here, lounging on a chair when there's so much left to do?" The question and her name are barked from the other side of the room, making heads turn towards the back door. Louise winces and tears well up instantly in her eyes. She stands abruptly, shrugging off John's arm who's trying to make her stay where she is. It's bad enough that the guy is bullying her all the time but having people witness the way he treats her is too much. Turning the other cheek for the sake of not being sent back to Earth is one thing. Turning it in front of strangers and friends alike is more than she can bear.

She chooses to ignore John's plea to return to her seat and walks past Buckley, her fists at her sides, not stopping as he continues abusing her. She pushes past the back door and disappears through the kitchen and then heads straight for the walk-in fridges, rummaging through them to give herself countenance.

When John drops by that night at her quarters – something he always does when he comes home from an off-world mission, which is not the case this time, making her uncomfortable, out of her comfort zone – she lets him in, knowing he's too stubborn to let go of the subject.

He's brought her green tea he's requisitioned from the kitchen – using his pull as 2IC to get it from the last prep-cook remaining in the area at that time of night – and some dark chocolate he's brought back from Earth and was waiting for a special occasion to give her.

She graces him with a smile and sits with him on the edge of her bed, nibbling at the chocolate, but her mind is somewhere else and she clearly doesn't want to talk about the incident – only insisting it's an isolated occurrence, making his ears prick and his anger flare.

TBC

 _ **Extract from Louise's Cookbook**_

 _I usually make the Oat-Meat Loaf rather than this one. It's much easier and less time-consuming. But this meatloaf was Aiden's favorite and I'm sure Mr Dex would love it as well._

 _Cajun Meat loaf_

 _(for one meatloaf)_

 _2 bay leaves_

 _1 Tbs salt_

 _1 tsp pepper_

 _1 tsp cumin_

 _1 tsp nutmeg_

 _4 Tbs butter_

 _1 onion_

 _1 celery stalk diced_

 _1 green pepper diced_

 _1 garlic diced_

 _2 tsp Tabasco_

 _½ cup milk_

 _½ cup ketchup_

 _Melt the butter, add the vegetables and spices and cook in frying pan for ten minutes then add the milk and ketchup and cook for an additional five minutes. Cool and remove the bay leaves then add the following ingredients._

 _1 ½ pound chopped beef_

 _½ pound chopped pork_

 _2 eggs_

 _1 cup breadcrumbs_

 _Cook in the oven (350°F) for an hour._


	18. Chapter 18

_Chapter 17 – Friday nights_

All she seems to do these days is be no more than the chef's understudy. She hasn't had time to do anything for herself for days. She works all the time, trying to compensate for all the work he or his minions do not do. Forgotten are her plans of testing new recipes or spending time with John and learning how to play golf. Each time he comes by she has to say no. The only thing she doesn't dare say no to is their "Friday night" as they've come to call it.

The first time they all sat down to dinner after coming back, Teyla and Rodney and John forced her to sit with them. John suggested they should do it more often – like on a regular basis – explaining to Teyla how some people tended to have a regular meeting at the end of their work week, just for the sake of seeing each other and having a good time. Teyla mentioned they do have that kind of encounter in her people too and thought it was a good idea. Soon enough, Ronon was added to the gang, his roar of laughter being both intimidating and a great comfort.

It's not always on a Friday night as they all have a different schedule. Fridays do not even mean anything there anyway. People work round the clock so having a weekend is kind of lost on everyone. But it's a set habit. Unwinding a little, connecting to others, swapping jokes and even a little bit of gossiping. The first time they did so, John steered her to the group as she was clearing tables, made her set her dirty dishes on a nearby table and forced her to sit. That's how it started. That's also how the new chef went from loathing her to hating her pure and simple – because people do not come to see her only because she fills their plates. He's filed a written complaint to Elizabeth who's answered by sitting with the group the next time and ostensibly asking Louise to join them. On those nights, she forgets about being bullied, feeling guilty and having nightmares filled with her past life and her more recent one.

Buckley has revealed himself to be exactly the jerk he seemed to be in the first place. What she's discovered is that he's incompetent as well. Though being told by John he would have to adapt to Atlantis' very peculiar pace, he has not. He still keeps office hours, giving his orders to Louise about what should be done and when but dropping by much later than her or his staff just to see if the work is done.

At first she thought bringing his own people meant he had trained them but she discovered on the very first day her staff had left and been replaced by his that he hadn't even done so, assuming it was the under-cook's job. The second dinner had been a nightmare. The meal was served much later to everyone's dismay though she saved the day by using pie shells she had frozen for when she would go on a mission and needed the staff to prepare quiches.

Rodney declares that night he's never had anything so yummy, making her laugh at his stubborness for not understanding that making quiche is the easiest thing in the world once you've made the shell. He gushes: "Yeah, but yours tastes so much better than any other I've had before. What's your secret?" he asks conspiratorially.

She leans towards him and whispers in his ear loud enough for anyone around to hear it though: "Love, Rodney... and maybe a pinch of nutmeg and the right amount of parmesan." She winks at him and saunters back to the kitchen, whistling as she enters it.

On those nights, John makes sure she goes to bed after their little party and doesn't go back to the kitchen to help clean and maybe cook some more. He walks her to her quarters and of late, tends to wait until she's brushed her teeth and changed into her pajamas. "Are you also going to tuck me in?" she teases him the first time he does it.

He pouts but doesn't relent. "Are you going to head back to the kitchen the minute I leave your room?" he counters, knowing she's done so the last couple of times they had a Friday night with the team. She blushes. He raises his eyebrows and waits, crossing his arms on his chest bullheadedly. "Sorry," she apologizes and he sighs, knowing it hurts her when he's pissed. "But you have to understand, John. I have too much work to do. If I don't go back now, I have to get up even earlier the next morning."

He tells Elizabeth about it. "I had surmised you were doing that," she remarks about his taking her back to her room. "You always leave with her..." He sees her look and knows it's more than concern for Louise that guides her words, even though she never intended to let it show. "Listen, 'Lizbeth," he says as he closes the door to her office, surprising her. "I want you to know it's not like that, for any of us."

She blushes ever so slightly. "And what do I think, John?"

He gives her that smile she knows is only for her. "You think I might have gotten more interested than I should. Am I wrong?"

She looks slightly embarrassed. "You're right and before you say anything else, I must say there's nothing wrong with that. Louise is a very sweet lady."

He laughs. "She is. And she also told me once if she were ever to consider being interested in a man ever again, she would go for General O'Neill. Pure speculation, of course, as we all know his heart belongs to a tall and slender blonde," he adds, waggling his eyebrows.

She laughs out loud. "Where did that conversation come from anyway?" she wonders.

"Well, I was trying to entice her to see people, even have a love life maybe. As you can see, she's not interested. I think General O'Neill was just a decoy." He falls silent. "How can I explain, 'Lizabeth? Rodney and I and Aiden when he was still with us..." A shadow crosses his face at the mention of the younger man's demise. "We were and still are her knights in shining armor. She deserves it and now more than ever. She's like the sister I never had. I've come to see her as one of my best friends too, even though I never told her so. She seems to hate the F word, for whatever reason I'll whittle from her one day, but now is not the time yet."

She smiles at him. As strange as it seems, that shy little cook has helped him open more than any therapy would ever manage and he seems to have done the same for her as well. She reflects that Rodney is more open too and she suspects spending time with Louise is no stranger to it either.

"Elizabeth?" he calls her, making her focus on the matter at hand. "Louise refuses to talk about it but I think Buckley bullies her into doing most of the work. I would like to get permission to monitor him." He raises his hand, seeing her ready to interrupt him. "I know the rules and I'm aware my main reason is personal. I know surveillance is usually used in cases of suspicion of treason but the guy clearly overworks her. She's not one to complain and I'm aware she told us she was able to take care of herself but if it happens to be the truth, it's so not fair! Please?" He gives her his best puppy look.

She shakes her head, sad they have reached such a situation once more after getting rid of Kavanagh who's asked for a transfer back to the SGC. "You have a go, Colonel, but only if you remain discreet about it. I have enough worry right now without getting a slap on the wrist or worse by the IOA."

"Understood, Ma'am."

"And John?"

"Yes, Ma'am?"

"If it so happens you're right, report to me. We''ll need to find a way to deal with him, no matter how influential his uncle is."

John has made a beeline for Rodney's lab once out of Elizabeth's office and asked him to help with his little project of his. They're currently discussing the matter outside on a balcony, not wanting to be overheard. Rodney is white with anger. "I'm going to kill the guy if you don't, I swear, Sheppard!"

"Who's going to get killed? Can I be of assistance? I'd love to help!" they hear behind them. They don't need to turn to know who's stepped on the balcony. The sarcastic lilt is Ronon's who's been told he could find Sheppard in Rodney's lab.

"Can't we ever have some privacy?" Rodney demands, rolling his eyes, exasperated.

Ronon's eyes crinkle with mirth. He chuckles. "I only mean to please!"

"I bet you do! Pleasing yourself by treating someone to a little torture session, right?" Rodney sniggers.

"You didn't seem to complain the last time I scared off that douche bag!" Ronon points out, reminding him of his encounter with Kavanagh in the conference room. "And I didn't even touch the guy! See, I'm ressourceful and very efficient... So, who do you need to kill?" he offers.

John has to admit. Ronon knows how to thaw the atmosphere. He chuckles. "We'll let you know if we need your expertise in the matter. Right now, I'm only trying to convince Rodney to set cameras in the kitchen area."

Ronon raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms on his broad chest, waiting for some more intel on the mystery at hand.

"Of course, I'll do it, Sheppard!" Rodney huffs, pained John would think he'd ever hesitate to do such a thing for a friend. "It's not I like bending the law but the guy needs to be caught. And sooner than later." Ronon clears his throat as they seem to have forgotten he was still there. "Oh yeah, right, sorry. Forgot to tell Chubaka here about our plan. As if he'd be of any help!" Rodney sniggers. Ronon steps closer, getting into Rodney's personal space. It's not he's really afraid of him, especially as John is right here and will stop the Satedan before anything stupid happens, right? He crosses his arms in defiance, or so he tells himself. "Well, for your guidance, John thinks the new chef might very well bully our beloved cook. We need to make sure of it before Elizabeth makes a decision." Ronon growls, making Rodney jump back. "Hey, big guy, Buckley is the villain of this story, not me!"

Ronon turns to Sheppard, looking murderous. "Let me handle it."

John lifts his hand. "Hey, we need to be sure. It's just an inkling. She doesn't want to say more than she's overworked. I can't act without evidence."

Ronon snorts disdainfully. "I trust your judgement, Sheppard. When was the last time you were wrong about someone?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

John pouts but does not relent. "Elizabeth said we report to her and that's what we'll do. Period. I'm sorry, big guy, but I won't humor you on that one. If you want to help, meet us tonight around two. We'll sneak into the kitchen and storage room and set the cameras."

Ronon nods. "Whatever you need."

"It's settled, then," Rodney nods too, his jaw set. "I will not let anyone bully one of my friends."

TBC


	19. Chapter 19

_Chapter 19 – Evaluation_

He passes her as he's heading towards Weir's office that morning. She has her head down and her fists are held tight at her sides. She's just left the Control Room. She doesn't even ackowledge his presence. He sees her yank the communicator from her ear and cram it into her pants' pocket. He cringes. As much as McKay likes her and her food, he's going to be royally pissed if she's damaged the piece of state-of-the-art technology.

He wirls around and decides what he had to tell Elizabeth can wait. He follows her but she's already disappeared round the corner. It's a good thing he knows where she's headed anyway. He knows when something is bothering her, she only knows one way to clear her mind or cool off, and it's cooking. He smirks. Whatever happened down in Elizabeth's office, he'll find a way to make her come clean about it. He knows her better now. She doesn't retreat in her shell the way she used to at the beginning. Sure, she's still a mystery to most people here but he's learnt to decipher the tell-tale signs. After all, she's a lot like him when it comes to holding it all inside, as he's recently experienced.

" _Listen, Louise. You don't have to keep it all bottled up. Believe me, it'll end up killing you for sure."_

 _She snorts. "Don't worry, Colonel. I'm pretty resilient."_

" _Damn it, Louise! Why can't you just acknowledge that you're mourning a friend? The Ford we knew is gone and as much as I'd like to get my hands on the kid and ween him out of the drug, we both know by now it's never gonna happen," he hisses at her, pissed that she's worked herself to exhaustion just so she won't have to think about it._

 _She tilts her head up in defiance. "There's one thing you still need to learn about me, Colonel. I don't do friends," she hisses back and slams the door shut on him._

His communicator comes alive and he hears Elizabeth's strained voice. "John? This is Weir. Respond."

He smirks again. That was fast! He takes longer strides towards the kitchens and taps his communicator. "Yeah, Ma'am. I'm on it," he answers before she even has the chance to utter another word.

In her office, Elizabeth shakes her head in disbelief and chuckles. "Right," she answers. "Thank you, Colonel. I trust you'll get us all out of this crisis. Weir out."

He reaches the kitchens as she's banging pots and pans on the stove, venting out her anger. She was fast getting there, for such a petite frame. So much so that she's already donned her apron and put some water on the stove to boil. She ignores him and grabbing a knife, she turns to her workstation to chop the Pegasus equivalent of tomatoes and onions. He knows from the basil and spaghettis resting on the island top what they'll have for tonight. No complaint there! The tomatoes they secured from a new trading expedition are sweeter than those from Earth, much like the cherry ones, and the onions are pink, with a finer taste than the yellow or red ones. He can see too that she's alone in the kitchen which means she's probably told her assistants to leave – or rather ordered them, what with the state of agitation she's in. She's chopping furiously at the onions now while checking on her pans where she's put oil to heat and each time she turns towards the stove, she lets the knife rattle onto the chopping board, not caring to lay it gently, rather doing it on purpose he realizes, so it makes a hell of a noise and fuels her anger even more.

He knows she's aware he's there but since she's staying focused on her cooking, he finally decides it's time to do something about it. He clears his throat and approaches her cautiously. She turns to him and glares. "Don't you dare invade my space as if it were your own, Colonel," she says through clenched teeth, her tone biting on the last word. "I know she sent you here and I won't give in to your puppy looks so you'd better get your butt out of here," she adds, pointing her knife at him before she returns to her chopping.

He rolls his eyes but takes a cautious step back. He doesn't know what's going on and he's never seen her so enraged. Actually, he's never seen her enraged at all. Well, come to think about it, there was that time not so long ago when she killed that giant of a Wraith with a knife very much like this one, he winces, but that was a different matter. Yet, on Atlantis, with everything they've already been through – and he has an inkling they haven't seen anything yet – you're never too cautious. "Are you, like, you know, under the influence of some alien presence or something?" he asks tentatively.

She sneers. "Yeah, sure. Wouldn't that be convenient, uh? Nope, Colonel, I'm not!" She scowls at the sight of his hand resting on his side arm, in case. "You can relax, John," she says, drawling his first name. "I'm just pissed."

He relaxes a little and chooses to humor her. He walks to the pot she keeps in a corner and helps himself to a cup of steaming, and he knows, strong brew. She likes her coffee strong but he doesn't mind because he has to admit, she makes good coffee – never bitter. He holds out the mug to her. She declines, shaking her head, her lips still pressed together, her eyes narrowing at the basil she's chopping and adding to her pan. "I'm busy here," she says not too nicely, making him know in no uncertain terms he's still not welcome there.

He sighs. "Weir didn't send me, Louise. I'm just concerned, is all," he says quietly, shrugging. She tilts her head so he knows she's listening but doesn't utter a word so he plods on. The hell he'll let her bully him into leaving. She's shutting him out again and he won't have it. "What is it? Talk to me," he pleads.

When she finally answers after washing her hands and drying them on her apron, it's not anger he sees in her eyes, but fear and pain too. "She wants me to go see Dr Heightmeyer."

He cringes. It's not he doesn't like Kate. It's just he too has a strong aversion for her field itself. "I get it. I don't like going to her office either but you don't have the choice. We're supposed to have at least one evaluation a year and as I recall, she's never seen you before, right?"

She looks up at him, her lower lip trembling with anger. "How do you know?"

"There's not much going on here I don't know about, sweetie. It's my job, as well as Dr Weir's, to keep up with what's up. Nothing personal."

"Still, I don't want to go. She's been pestering me for a while now and I said I wouldn't go. There's nothing wrong with me!"

"We're not saying there is! Come on. You're part of the expedition. You've had to go through this at least once before you were cleared to come here. What's the big deal with spending half an hour in her office? You'll be done with it in no time and if nothing bad happens in the meantime, you won't have to go back for a whole year! A walk in the park! Trust me, Heightmeyer is not a witch. She's just doing her job."

She shakes her head stubbornly. "Still, won't go. No way. I don't want to be in the same room with a shrink ever again in my life. That's final!"

"Well, someone didn't like her evaluation at the SGC, uh?" he teases her. "What did they do to you? Asked you to talk about your relationship with your mother?" He winks at her then sobers up when he sees the look of pure rage in her eyes.

"I do not wish to talk about my mother with anyone including you, Colonel." He cringes. She's reverting to calling him that to let him know she's royally pissed at him. "And FYI," she adds through clenched teeth, "I never had to go through the process at the SGC. I was cleared by Dr Jackson and Colonel O'Neill and that was it. It was the deal, damn it! No shrinks or I was not coming."

He looks at her bemused. This is unheard of. No one is allowed to come here without going through a bunch of tests, especially the psychological ones. "You sure?" he insists, pouting.

She scowls at him. "Seems like someone's not done his job thouroughly after all! Haven't read my file?" she taunts him. It's so not like her to be nasty. He wonders what she's afraid of to feel so cornered.

"Nope. I asked Dr Weir if there was something I really should know, you know after the scare you gave me on your second mission off-world, but that's it." She pouts, embarrassed that he had to know about it. She doesn't like to talk about her condition – doesn't like to let people think she's "sick" because she sure doesn't want to feel that way.

He smiles at her, embarrassed too. "Hey, it's OK. We agreed not to talk about it. And I don't want to intrude. I know my men's files like the back of my hand but you're a civilian. And you're my friend," he adds tentatively but she refuses to make eye contact. This is a fight he's not won yet. She retreats in her shell every time she hears the f word and he hasn't been able yet to understand why. He talked to Elizabeth about it but she's as clueless as he is.

She's advised him though to be patient. Trust and friendship need to be earned with time and she's told him she believes Louise is like the fox in the Little Prince. She probably needs more time than most people to create bonds and feel safe around him. But man, is it frustrating!

She uncrosses her arms she has folded on her chest defensively, checks her preparation and leaves it to simmer then she motions for him to sit at the table. He does and remains silent. The ball is in her court now. He doesn't want to force her but if she doesn't speak to him, she'll have Weir on her back next.

She licks her lips and sighs. "I... When Rodney came to fetch me and told me about signing a waiver and all that," she explains, motioning vaguely with her hand, "I said OK because I thought it was a chance for me to do something different. He talked about the responsibilities and I thought that was the kind of occupation that would keep be busy enough not to think." He nods. She's just opened up enough once to explain how thoughts used to swirl so much in her mind, it would keep her awake at night. They've not come yet to the why. "Then they had all those medical tests. I said _don't bother. You'll never send a diabetic on an expedition_. But Dr Lam said it didn't matter. But then she talked about sending me to the shrink and I said no. I guess things went south enough in the infirmary that she sent for General O'Neill. Him and Dr Jackson and I, we had a talk. I explained things to them and they agreed to spare me." She's said "things" but he knows she means "past" – that she came clean about everything with them but not him. She falls silent and he knows she won't say more.

"Is it mentioned in your file? I mean the clearance."

"I guess it it or I wouldn't have been allowed to come here – I think."

He taps his communicator. "Dr Weir? This is Sheppard. I'm coming to your office to check on a file. I'll bring Ms Léger with me, if you don't mind. Sheppard out."

She shakes her head vehemently. "No, I'm not going back there."

He sees she feels cornered. "Louise, please, be sensible. We need to find a solution. I'm trying to help here."

She refuses to look at him when he approaches her and he sees her lips trembling. He's never seen her so upset before – not even when the Wraith attacked her – but he knows she's become a master at keeping her feelings bottled up inside. Well, most of the time anyway, he realizes. "I prefer to leave Atlantis in that case," she whispers. "Tell Dr Weir she'll have my resignation on her desk by the end of the day."

He looks at her in alarm. Now, that can't be happening! She's doing good here and they've all come to enjoy having her around. "She won't accept it and I advise strongly against wringing her arm like that." Elizabeth – under the veneer of the diplomat – is a tough cookie. She hates it when she's not the one to initiate the negociations. He taps his communicator once more. "Elizabeth. Change of plans. Could you please come down to the kitchen and have a cup of tea with us, maybe? And would you mind bringing Ms Léger's file with you, please." He listens to Dr Weir's answer. "Thank you, Ma'am. Yes. I do understand and I appreciate. I owe you one. Sheppard out."

He turns to Louise and crosses his arms on his chest. "Well, when this crisis is over, you'll owe me one too, chef!" he says, his eyebrows raised.

She hangs her head. "Why do you keep trying to help me, John? I'm a basket case and by now, I'm sure you know it."

He shakes his head and sighs. "If you're one, what should be said about me?"

She laughs humorlessly. "Believe me, you've got nothing on me."

He thanks Elizabeth when she arrives and peruses the file briefly. He nods at Louise. "You're right. There's a note saying you were not given an evaluation but cleared by Jack O'Neill himself." She smiles.

"But nowhere in there is there any mention of you being exempted from further evaluations," Dr Weir points out. She sits at the table. "Why don't we discuss this and find a compromise?" she offers, briefly glancing at John for his advice. He shakes his head sadly. Louise ignores them and busies herself preparing tea. She sets the pot and two cups on the table then heads for the pantry. "Louise, please," Elizabeth says, making her stop in her tracks. "We started on the wrong foot in my office. I was tired and I was too blunt about it. I ordered you to go without understanding the underlying issue but if you're willing to explain, then I'm willing to listen."

Louise turns her head slightly so the look of pure hurt can be seen by both of them but is obviously not ready to comply. "I told Colonel Sheppard already, Ma'am, and it's no empty threat. I'm willing to hand out my resignation but I will – not – talk – about my personal problems." She's spaced out her words, almost hissing them but keeping them in check for the time being.

Elizabeth is taken aback by the violence of the words and the extremity to which that petite woman is ready to go just so she won't step foot in Dr Heightmeyer's office. "It's just a talk, Louise. Between civilized people. No need to get to such extremities! You get in, say hi, chat about how you feel about being here, tell her a little about your activities, what you do in your free time, I don't know, things like that. She realizes you're normal and not a threat to the expedition and tells you have a nice day. That's it. No foul, I promise."

Louise walks back to the table and pours tea for both Elizabeth and John but still doesn't sit with them. "And what may I ask is going to happen when she realizes I've not been cleared by a shrink? And what about when she starts snooping around because, believe me, she will!" she sneers.

Elizabeth silently begs John to do something.

"Louise," he says, "let me ask you something. How can you possibly imagine resigning? Do you think they will let you stay here? You will have to go back to Earth and will spend the rest of your life under surveillance. Is that what you want?" He's playing dirty but tells himself the means justify the end.

She shrugs. "I don't care."

"I thought you'd precisely come here to escape your life on Earth. Back to square one?" he prods.

"Not fair, John," she tells him, obviously hurt.

He stands and moves to her side. "Elizabeth, you know I hate going to the shrink's and obviously it upsets Louise even more." She nods silently, waiting for whatever offer he's come up with. "What if I came with Louise to her session so she won't be alone in there and you let Dr Heightmeyer know certain questions are not to be asked?"

Louise turns to him, puzzled. "You'd be ready to come to her office when you don't have to, just for my sake? I don't get it."

"This is what friends are for, Louise," he chides her a little, making her blush.

Dr Weir stands and motions for John to follow her into the mess hall. "A word, Colonel. If you'll excuse us for a second," she adds for Louise's benefit.

"What?" he asks, knowing there's always a but in Elizabeth's negociations.

"Relax, John. It's an excellent idea you've had but I don't want you to get too involved into this. If you go with her, it might compromise the validity of the evaluation."

"Why?" he barks, on edge.

"You're very protective of her," she simply says.

She has a point and he knows it. "Well, what do we do then?"

"I have one more person who's scheduled to see Heightmeyer and is – let's say – quite relunctant to go and adamant about it too..." She lifts her eyebrows, waiting for the idea to sink in.

He snaps his fingers, McKay's style, and she chuckles. The unlikely interaction between those two is quite to her liking, in retrospect. "Ronon, right? He told me about it the other day. You want to send those two in?"

"Yes. It could deflect Heightmeyer's questions about embarrassing issues for both of them and they'll watch out for each other."

"Can I stay outside in case?" She rolls her eyes at him, knowing he considers her as the mother hen of the expedition. Now, look who's talking. "I mean," he adds, ignoring her look, "Ronon can be quite, how shall I put it? Blunt? when he doesn't like a question. We don't want good Dr Heightmeyer to get scared, do we?" he adds, waggling his eyebrows playfully.

She chuckles. "OK, you have a go, Colonel. Let's get back inside with this peace offering."

They leave the office before John has had the time to complete his crosswords. He stands and raises his eyebrows expectantly. Ronon slaps him on the arm, making him scowl. "Wow, hey there, big guy. Be careful with the old man! I'll have a bruise in the morning."

Ronon sniggers. "You'll live! We did excellent by the way. The little one and me are a team when it comes to defeating the big bad doctor," he says, winking at Louise.

John smiles and turns to her. "I was ready for the rescue mission but it never happened as I gather."

She shakes her head and smiles. "Nope. Ronon is an excellent decoy. And I have an inkling Dr Weir mentioned some questions were not allowed. I hope though Dr Heightmeyer is not too unhappy about it."

"You can't help feeling compassion, no matter what, right?" he nudges her playfully.

She smiles shyly. "Guess not." She hides her embarrassment as best she can. "What about a treat to thank you all and I'll include the shrink in the process. Tonight, my place, dessert around ten?"

Ronon tilts his head, looking as if he were thinking about it when she knows by now when it comes to having a sweet tooth, only Rodney can beat him. "Depends on the dessert," he drawls.

She mirrors him. "Don't know, Ronon. What about that raspberry jelly and cinnamon-flavored crust pie you saw in my cookbook the other day?" She lifts her eyebrows tentatively.

"How's it called?" John asks, his tastes buds reacting instantly.

Ronon rolls his eyes. "Linz something. Don't know how to pronounce it but I'll sure know how to eat it!"

TBC

 _Extract from Louise's cookbook_

 _Linzertort_

 _It's a tart originating from the city of Linz, Austria. Sugar high guaranteed!_

 _2 cups raspberry jam_

 _1 ½ cup almonds roasted and grounded_

 _1 ½ cup all purpose flour_

 _2/3 cup white sugar_

 _1 tsp cinnamon_

 _1/4 tsp baking powder_

 _14 tbsp butter, room temperature_

 _2 egg yolks_

 _Combine the almonds, flour, sugar, cinnamon and baking powder then add the butter in small lumps and the egg yolks._

 _Gather the dough in two balls, one larger than the other and refrigerate for one hour or until firm._

 _Press the larger ball of dough onto the bottom and up of a buttered tart shell._

 _Spread the jam on top._

 _Roll the second ball of dough between two sheets of wax paper. Use a pastry wheel or knife and ruler to cut the pastry in strips._

 _Place the strips on the tart using a spatula, gently transferring the strips, laying half of them across the torte then the remaining ones across the first. Trim the edges of the strips to fit the tart shell and press._

 _Bake 30 to 35 mn and cool completely._


	20. Chapter 20

_Chapter 20 – Earth_

 _Dear readers, we're reaching Chapter 20 with about forty more to go. The story is drafted and almost completely written but I'm open to requests. If you want to see an episode from the show in particular or a scene that you would like me to write, just ask and if it can be included in the storyline, then it will :)_

 _And, of course, as usual, I need feedback so don't hesitate to correct mistakes and tell me what you think._

 _Also, I'm gonna have to up the rating soon._

"Do you have a minute, Dr Weir?" Elizabeth looks up from the file she's currently perusing. Dr Heightmeyer is standing in her doorway, a couple of files under her arm.

Elizabeth puts her pen down and motions for her to come in. "Did I... miss an appointment, Dr Heightmeyer?" she wonders.

The other woman closes the door and sits on the other side of the desk. She looks worried too. "No, Ma'am, absolutely not! I was just wondering if you could spare me a few minutes to talk about two members of the expedition."

Elizabeth watches her intently. "I thought files were upclose and confidential..."

Kate laughs. "Of course, they are. I do not intend to disclose anything private. Don't you worry. I just wanted to talk to you about Dr Beckett and also Louise Léger. I need a second opinion and also need your help." Elizabeth nods. "I've been rewieving the files of all the staff as well as conducted interviews with each and every one of them."

Elizabeth nods again. "I'm aware of that. I'm glad this first evaluation is finally over and I'm sure you're too. It was quite a challenge to have everyone agree to it, believe me, especially for some..." Her voice trails off.

Kate knows Elizabeth had to use all her talents as a diplomat to gently bend people to her will and have them come to Kate's office. John Sheppard was one of them but surprisingly not the worst. She's particularly glad Elizabeth was on her side when it came to forcing Ronon and Louise to accept to enter her office, lest talk to her. She sighs. "I do agree, Ma'am."

Elizabeth sees something is bugging the psychiatrist. "What is it, Dr Heightmeyer? Anything I can do to help you further, I'll do it. You know that, right?"

"Well, Dr Weir. There's one thing. As I was reviewing all the files, I singled out two of them – Dr Beckett's and Ms Léger's. See, they're the only ones on the city who haven't had a semblance of a leave ever since they came here."

"I beg to differ for Dr Beckett. He went home with us. He even had time to drop by and see his mother."

Kate nods. "Yes, yes, I do agree but... see, Dr Beckett only spent a day home. It's far from being enough to reconnect with his family and friends. I wouldn't mind so much if he didn't work so hard. Now, I happened to drop by at the infirmary only yesterday for a vaccine and we struck a conversation. He told me about his wish to spend a little more time with his mother. She's not getting any younger, as I gathered, and he was worried about her. He will never say it, but I think he's homesick. I'm not asking for a long vacation. Just for a few days..." she offers.

Elizabeth has reclined in her chair and is twindling her fingers, much like John Sheppard does sometimes when he's deep in thought, Kate sees. She smiles inwardly. It's funny to see how people's endearing twirks tend to rub off on each other when they spend time together. "It would mean eighteen days on the Daedalus, a few days on Earth – say a week or a little less, depending on the Daedalus' schedule – and eighteen more days for the trip back, right?" Kate nods silently. "It's a lot of time just to spend a few days with his mother..."

"But so worth it! Look, Dr Weir. Dr Beckett has worked very hard on a lot of projects. He spends most of his time in the infirmary. I know he sometimes tries to take days off but there's always something coming up before he can leave. This would be a welcomed reprieve. He could rest on the trip back and forth and see his loved ones into the bargain. The Daedalus is bound to leave Earth in a couple of days and I know you're scheduled for the weekly communication this afternoon. Why not ask for a replacement for him just for the time of his leave?"

Elizabeth wets her lips and trains her eyes on her. "I need to talk to Dr Beckett about it."

Kate sighs with frustration. "Sorry to disagree, Ma'am, but it's not his call. If you ask him, he'll say no, even if he's dying to see his mother. You need to put your foot down, for his sake."

"Alright. Let me think about it while you tell me why you've brought up the subject of our under-cook as well." Elizabeth narrows her eyes at her. She wasn't comfortable with sending Louise see Kate and she's not comfortable now with the idea Kate might have more to come her way. Louise needs to be left alone for the time being. She's got enough on her plate.

Kate raises her hands in mock surrender. "Ma'am, I'm on her side here. I happen to know she's the only one on this expedition who's never made the trip back home. This is not healthy and I need you to send her back."

"Dr Heightmeyer, I have to disagree here. Ms Léger is under a lot of stress right now. She doesn't need to be ordered back to Earth. You have to understand that home, as you say, is here for her. She feels comfortable around here. It's her comfort zone and I certainly don't intend to disrupt it." Elizabeth's tone is final.

Kate winces. "You misinterpreted my intentions, Ma'am. I just want to help, not cause more harm. I'm aware of Ms Léger's issue with Mr Buckley. She didn't have to say anything about it. Body language hardly ever lies, you know. It's in plain sight for everyone who observes them to see he's one more thorn in her side. I think it would do them both good to be apart for some time. Mr Buckley will certainly dearly miss Ms Léger's help and expertise while she's gone. It might teach him a lesson in humility. As for Ms Léger, she'll get a breath of fresh air, away from her current worries." She falls silent and awaits her boss's decision.

Elizabeth taps her communicator. "Colonel Sheppard, Dr Beckett, please report to my office." She trains her eyes on Kate. "Sold! I think you have a point. You're a shrewd negociator, Dr Heightmeyer," she adds, tilting her head.

"I'll take that as a compliment, Dr Weir," Kate replies with a smile. "I just wonder how you're going to sell my project to Dr Beckett."

Elizaebth raises her hand. "Let me do it! I know exactly which buttons to push when it comes to our good doctor..." she says with a smile as John and Carson enter her office.

"I can't believe you guys bullied me into this!" Louise is fuming as she's packing a few clothes and toiletries in her travel bag.

Rodney hands her a couple of sweaters that she impatiently puts away. "Come on, Louise. You know what John said. Carson wouldn't have gone back if it hadn't been for you. We needed someone who'd make it look like they were the one needing the break. You know he worries about his mother. Besides, he never rests. Elizabeth is trusting you on that. She needs you to keep an eye on him – make sure he sleeps and eats well. No word about it though, OK? He thinks he's doing it for you." Rodney winks at her. Inwardly, he feels like doing a little dance. Elizabeth was brilliant, as usual. She tricked them both and killed two birds with one stone.

"I still don't see why I have to go back to Earth!" She's had nightmares ever since they've told her. The Daedalus is to arrive shortly and will only stay a day before it heads back to Earth. "Having to go back was never in the job description."

"Listen, honey. We discussed this a million times already." Rodney sighs. "You don't have to go back to France if you don't want to. No one has to know you're there. You and Beckett will head straight for Scotland. According to him, his mother is a great cook and a sweet lady. I'm sure you two will have a great time."

"It's not that, Rodney..." Ever since they've told her she had to go back, she's felt as if she had a wad of cotton stuck in her throat. "What if they don't let me come back? You heard Buckley! His dream is to have me return to Earth indefinitely so he can have the kitchens and staff to himself." She looks miserable and scared.

Rodney grabs her arms and forces her to look at him. "We've made sure this won't happen, Louise. We've made a deal, John and me and Carson. If bad comes to worse and we realize they've tricked us, we'll all hand out our resignations. Let them try! Believe me! They don't want to run this place without us. It would be a beautiful disaster if I'm suddenly not around anymore," he adds, smugly, making her snort at his antics.

"Rodney, you're unique, you know that?" she says and kisses his cheek. He beams at her but coughs, feeling embarrassed by the gesture of affection. "I don't want any one of you to jeopardize their positions for me, though."

"It won't come to that, believe me. Besides, I'm pretty sure after a week or two, Buckley will beg for you to return asap. It will teach the prick a lesson." He waggles his eyebrows playfully, making her giggle. "That's my girl. Now, chop chop, lady, finish preparing your luggage. We have a Friday night to go to."

They try to distract her from the imminent departure by binge watching John's favorite western movies and eating popcorn. Beckett has allowed her to loosen up on the junk food for once though when offered, she refuses to take a sip at the moonshine Teyla has brought back from the mainland to celebrate their last night together. It doesn't prevent her from having a blinding migraine by the end of the evening. She hasn't told anyone but it's been building up steadily ever since the Daedalus was spotted on the radar.

She ends up cooped up in her cabin for the first couple of days. Everyone has tried to be cheerful so she knew she had to keep a brave front. Deep inside, she's scared to death.

She's holding on to the thought she'll be coming back very soon with plenty of gifts for everyone. Beckett has tried to talk her into taking a little trip somewhere – anywhere she likes – but she's refused adamantly and has shut herself away. He's finally let her have her way, treated her migraine and left her alone.

She spends the rest of the trip reading and taking walks through the allowed sections of the ship. She's got cabin fever, which is quite new, given she's spent most of her first year on Atlantis holed up in her kitchen and storage area, barely going outside. She realizes that a few off-world missions and trips to the mainland have changed her perspective drastically. She makes a mental note of spending more time outside when – if – she gets back to Atlantis.

Soon enough, as Beckett had expected, she ends up spending most of her time in the cramped kitchen of the Daedalus. Colonel Caldwell is all too happy to know that she at least won't roam around freely in the corridors of his beloved ship. He's not really comfortable with the idea of a civilian with too much time on her hands snooping around and mingling with the crew.

She has to admit – spending time with the ship's cook does wonders to her wounded feelings. The guy is a civilian, like Buckley, but this is where the similarities end. He's a decent man who understands she needs to keep her mind and hands busy. "My mom always said idle hands were the hands of the devil," he remarks in passing as he lets her help with the evening meal.

She beams at him. "My granny used to say the exact same thing." They exchange memories of their youth. She tells him about being raised by her grandmother and being taught how to make apple pie when she was barely out of kindergarten. "She was the one who showed me how not to waste food. It was too precious when she was growing up. She taught me how to first try recipes for one instead of wasting a whole batch. I guess it's ingrained now. I can't bear the sight of restaurants and canteens wasting so much food. I've tried to teach my own staff but now we have a new chef, I guess it was a waste of time."

"I take it you're unhappy about the new situation," he tentatively asks. She's keeping it all inside but the meaning is clear.

"I'm not unhappy. I'm furious! We have worked so hard to replenish the stocks and now he's squandering food. He's kicked me out of the storage rooms as well and I have no say on what we cook. It's insane. He just plays it by ear when he should plan it ahead and make sure no food goes to waste." She shakes her head. "I'm sorry. I've kept it all inside these last few weeks but I guess I'm not the forgiving type after all."

He laughs out loud. "Better out than in, dear," he points out. "I can't do anything to help you, unfortunately, but if you want my advice, you should come clean about it. This whole program costs a fortune. It might interest some of the big brass to know someone is throwing tax money down the drain..." He tilts his head at her knowingly.

She nods. "I will if I have to. Right now, I'm just biding my time and hoping we'll find a way to make him see the light!" she banters.

As days go by on the ship, she finds her pace and is able to sleep full nights without having nightmares – at least, most of the time. She feels rested when they arrive and hates to leave the comfort of her small cabin. Beckett is overexcited to finally get to see his mother so she tries to keep a brave front and look cheerful.

They're first beamed down at the SGC, going first to the infirmary to see Dr Lam then General Landry and General O'Neill before being allowed to go to Scotland. She and General O'Neill have a quiet conversation in the mess hall where she's dropped by to pay her respect to the chef who's trained her. The three of them sit in a quiet corner of the commissary.

"I've received a transmission from Colonel Sheppard asking to tell you they all miss you. I see you have made friends there, against all hopes..." O'Neill points out, peering at her over his steaming mug of coffee. She blushes, remembering how adamant she'd been about not ever wanting to connect to people in the City. That was more than a year ago and things have changed so much since that time. "I'd told you so!" he adds, winking at her.

She pouts. "It's not that simple, Sir."

"No, it's not, Ms Léger. You don't plan these things and I'm sure glad you did connect after all. Aren't you?"

"Depends, Sir," she replies cockily, anger flaring. "Am I allowed to go back?"

O'Neill and the chef exchange a look. "Of course, you are. It was part of the deal. We're glad to see you here and witness with our own eyes how good you're doing. We don't see why we wouldn't let you return home." He insists on the last word and she blanches. Thinking about being away from the City is too painful to take. "Hey," he adds, patting her hand, "it's OK. You will go back. I promise. I might not have been able to prevent Buckley from securing your former position but I will not let anyone prevent you from going back where you belong." She breathes out in relief.

"How's Buckley, Louise?" Major Lawrence asks tentatively. He hates the guy but has always chosen to believe people can change, given the right amount of time. The guy was awfully young when he tried to steal his own position. He must not have seen how wrong it was.

"Same old Buckley, Major!" she replies sarcastically. On Atlantis, she just shuts up about it because she's afraid he might overhear her or the conversation might be reported back to him. Here, with only Major Lawrence and General O'Neill around, she can finally let go and say what's been eating at her ever since he kicked her out of her kitchen.

"Colonel Sheppard sent me a written note through Dr Beckett saying he believes he's bullying you..." General O'Neill mentions. She turns beet red and stands abruptly. "Ms Léger, sit down. We've not finished this conversation!" he orders her, his finger pointing at the chair she's just vacated. At the moment, he's not the laid back person who's chosen to trust her when no other big brass would have. He exudes authority so she sits back carefully, her eyes burning with unshed tears.

"Louise, I don't get it. Why would you refuse to talk about something that is not your fault?" Major Lawrence intervenes. "Why do you seem so ashamed of something that is beyond your control?"

"Because it's not beyond my control, damn it!" she replies angrily. "I should suck it up, that's all! I'm in no position to ask for any favors. I'm a nobody in this program. I was lucky to get the position in the first place. And I should be thankful for not getting the sack. Dr Weir still trusts me with the food negociations. That should be enough!" The more she talks, the more she sees where this is going. She was raised to be polite and say thank you and be content with what she already had. She was taught to count her blessings, not reach out for more. If she doesn't shut up, she'll blame herself for everything – for Buckley hating her and bullying her. She always chooses to take the blame and be nice to unkind and envious people because she believes, deep down, they're very unhappy. She's done it so many times, she's learnt to recognize the pattern.

General O'Neill falls silent and twiddles with his empty pack of sugar. He looks up and right in her eyes. "Do you believe yourself unworthy of that position but worthy of Buckley's abuse, Ms Léger?" She gasps at the way he's seen right through her. She glances at Major Lawrence who is looking at her expectantly. Of course, those two have ganged up on her to make sure she'll spit it out.

"Not fair," she mumbles, looking away.

"Look at me, Ms Léger, and anwer the damn question! Because it sure as hell is going to be the question you'll be asked by the IOA rep should Colonel Sheppard manage to prove Buckley is bullying you..."

"He wouldn't!" she replies indignantly. "I told him I could take care of myself!"

"Can you?" Major Lawrence asks, lifting an eyebrow.

She sighs. "You want the truth?" O'Neill nods. "Well, truth is, Dr Weir and Colonel Sheppard's management of the city is already under the scrutiny of the IOA. I would very much appreciate no one came nosing around in the kitchens and discovered they're spending way too much time figuring out how to get rid of that douch bag of Buckley! That's the truth, General." Her lips turn down in disgust. "He's trying to wreak havoc in our already very messy lives and I won't allow for that to happen. Now, if all it takes is me being bullied, so be it! As long as I'm allowed to stay on Atlantis, I'll suck it up. I've met quite a few of those people in my life so don't patronize me. It's not my first rodeo. I told John more than once – I know how to take care of myself. And you, General, know better than anybody else that what doesn't kill me will make me stronger. So stop worrying about Buckley and let me handle it my way."

He nods once, a smile forming at the corner of his lips. "Anything I can do for you, then? Or do you already have it all covered?" he prods sarcastically.

She thinks about it. "Yeah, there's something. Tell Colonel Sheppard to mind his own business too, Sir."

He looks at her coolly for a minute then winks at Lawrence. "She's a tough cookie! We need her back there. With her quick tongue and bullheadedness, whatever ugly thing is lurking in the shadows of the galaxy had better run for cover!"

Both men chuckle at the thought, making her growl in frustration. "I'm serious here, ya know!" O'Neill chuckles some more than adds: "Stubborn as you are, sweetheart, you have to understand I'm a tough cookie myself. I won't let you have your way for nothing..."

She eyes him suspiciously. "What do you want, General?"

He makes a show of pondering it. "Well, now you mention it, I was thinking about a whole batch of those French-style sugar pies you made for me once..."

She hands out her hand for him to shake. "Deal!"

TBC

 _Extract from Louise's Cookbook_

 _French-Style Sugar Pie_

 _My grandmother taught me how to make these when I was just a little girl along with her apple tart. Those sugar were meant to use the leftover dough and test the temperature of the oven. General O'Neill seems partial to them as I still am._

 _So, all you need is_

 _dough that you'll roll and fit in an individual tart shell,_

 _sugar (you can use either white or brown sugar and you'll need a couple of tsp for each pie) and butter (a tsp for each small pie). I prefer the semi-salted one._

 _Leave in the oven (350°F) until light brown and caramelized._


	21. Chapter 21

_Chapter 20 – Scotland_

"Ma? You're home?" Beckett yells after pushing open the front door that is unlocked. Louise can't help giggling. He looks like a kid coming home from school.

"Course I am, son," Mrs Beckett replies as she enters the hall, rubbing flour off her hands on her apron, a huge grin on her wrinkled features. Louise has seen a photo of her in Beckett's office but it's got nothing on the person who's facing her. _She has all her wrinkles in the right places,_ Louise reflects _. Very much like my grandmother. She looks gorgeous when she smiles. I wish I could be like her when I get older._ She sighs inwardly and waits for mother and son to reconnect, her hands folding in front of her. Mrs Beckett gives one last kiss to her son and turns to her. "So, this is the young lady I was so looking forward to meeting!" She extends her hand and Louise shakes it. Her skin is warm and the handshake firm. Louise has always disliked people with weak handshakes.

"Good evening, Mrs Beckett, I'm sure glad to finally meet you. Your son has told me quite a lot about you," she says with a smile.

"Well, dear, I'm afraid my son is much too good to his mother. I don't deserve his praise."

"Ma!" Beckett protests. "You know it's not true. Besides, Louise is going to spend a few days here with us and make her own opinion."

"And I'm sure glad she is. We're going to have plenty of time together, my dear," she tells Louise.

"I'm looking forward to it, Mrs Beckett."

"No, no, you shouldn't call me that. That was my mother-in-law's name. Everyone in the village calls me Ma, like my own son." She pats her arm affectionately.

Louise nods. "Ma it is then."

Mrs Beckett turns to her son. "I'll let you help Louise settle. When you're finished, get downstairs. Dinner will be ready shortly. I made your favorite stew and sticky toffee pudding." Louise sees Carson's eyes light up. Mrs Beckett turns to her. "I'm sorry if it's a little bit too much for a dinner but I wanted to treat him to something I know he's really missed. The pudding as you can gather is quite rich, I'm afraid. It's filled with dates and a toffee sauce."

"Really decadent," Beckett elaborates, waggling his eyebrows enticingly, his eyes filled with mirth.

"I'll taste some, then," she answers with a smile.

"Do you not eat dessert, child?" Ma asks her, worriedly.

Louise lifts her hands. "No, no, don't worry, Mrs Beckett. It's just... Carson might not have told you but I'm diabetic so... How can I put it? I try to avoid eating high carb desserts when I can, except when they're really worth it, which it is, so bring it on!" she banters with a smile.

"I'm sorry, dear. I think Carson had mentioned it in passing in one of his latest messages. I just forgot about it. I'm so very sorry, dear. I can whisk away something else. It won't take me a minute..." she offers, looking embarrassed.

Louise smiles at her again. "It's OK, really! I intend to taste everything you prepare for us while we're here and learn all the recipes Carson likes so I can make them for him. A taste won't hurt me as long as I don't indulge too much," she adds, winking.

"Your friend is a really sweet lady, Carson," his mother says as they're sitting opposite each other at the kitchen table, having each a glass of the whisky she keeps for special occasions.

He nods in agreement. "She is, Ma. And she deserves to be happy, even though, right now, I believe she's quite miserable. I hope her stay here will do her good."

"Anyone down there somewhere?" they hear Louise call from the bottom of the stairs.

"Right here, deary," Carson calls her. She's changed into close fitting jeans and the pullover he's offered her when he came back the last time.

Mrs Beckett smiles at her fondly. "I see you're trying to fit in, my dear. It looks good on you." Louise nods her thanks. "Come and join us. The stew is almost ready and we were having some whisky while waiting for you," Mrs Beckett says, pouring another glass and sliding it towards Louise.

Louise blanches. "Oh, right. It's a tradition, I guess..."

Mrs Beckett sees her unease and stands. "Carson, be a dear and make sure I've closed the gate and shutters. Ms Léger and I will finish preparing dinner." He nods and leaves with an encouraging smile towards Louise. Ma turns to her and folds her hands in front of her on the table. "Sit down, Ms Léger and tell me what's bothering you."

"Is that so obvious?" Louise looks at her sheepishly, the color slowly returning to her cheeks.

"Yes, it is and as I gather, it's got to do with the whisky I offered you. I sent my boy away so you feel free to talk about it should you wish to, of course," she says as she pours the whisky back into the bottle. She walks to the fridge and grabs a bottle of diet soda, offering it to Louise who thanks her with an embarrassed smile.

"I... I don't know you, Mrs Beckett, and I wouldn't want you to think badly of me..." Louise looks at her hands wrapped around the untouched bottle of soda.

"Is it something my boy knows?" Louise looks horrified. "You know, my dear, I don't pass judgment on people easily. I sure know we all have reasons – good and bad alike – to do what we do. I tend to listen and be compassionate. If you want to talk about it, I'll guard your secret better than my own. If you don't, that's fine by me as well..."

"Actually, Ma'am, it's a long story..." Louise had never thought she'd talk to anybody about this. She's always avoided being cornered into it – until now. Actually, she doesn't feel cornered at all. She trusts Ms Beckett. And sometimes, talking to a stranger is much easier than spilling it to your closest friends.

Mrs Beckett stands. "Well, dear, if you still want to talk about it tomorrow, join me for a walk. Time is all I have and I'll happily grant it to you. Now, come, you must be famished."

"So, now, you see why I did what I did though it was stupid and I'll regret it for the rest of my life," she says, turning away from her host to watch the sunrise over the cliff.

 _She's gotten up as early as she does on the City, tiptoeing to the kitchen to see if she could fix herself some coffee only to find Carson's mother already up. "You're very early, child."_

" _Good morning, Ma'am. Yes, I always am. Force of habit, I guess."_

" _And too many worries to stay in bed, right?" Mrs Beckett points out with a gentle smile. "Something like that, yeah." She smiles back. There is something in that woman that makes her feel at ease and for the first time in years, she doesn't feel the need to retreat into her shell and pretend everything is fine._

" _Would you like to have breakfast, my dear? I know it's awfully early but in your trade I guess you're used to it."_

" _Indeed, I am. And yes, please. I'd love to have breakfast." Ma fixes her a hearty meal, showing her how to make tattie scones and black pudding. She decides to leave the grilled kipper and buttered mushrooms for the next day, not knowing if the younger woman would be ready for such an exotic breakfast. Little does she know that Louise is quite disappointed by the lack of it._

 _When they have finished their second cup of coffee for Louise and weak tea for her host, Ma offers her to take a walk to see the sights at sunrise. "It's still a little bit chilly at this time of day and Carson mentioned you're sensitive to the cold but if you bundle up, you might even like it."_

" _Actually, Ma'am, I need the walk after such a huge breakfast!" she chuckles. "I think I couldn't have eaten one more bite!"_

 _They talk about this and that – mostly unimportant things. Carson has cautioned his mother against cornering Louise into talking about her past so she avoids all subjects that could border on that. Louise sees her discomfort as they walk to the other end of the village, towards the cliff. "You told me last night that if I wanted to confide in you, you would be willing to listen..." she finally finds the nerve to say. Mrs Beckett nods quietly. It's not going to be easy, she knows, but she's realized she needs to talk about it before it eats at her. In the City, she doesn't want people to know. God knows she's wanted this second chance so much, she doesn't want to screw it up by telling anyone. General O'Neill knows – at least, broadly speaking. But she's never talked to anyone else about it for no reason but to let it out and maybe have a chance at grace._

" _I... I was cautioned against ever drinking alcohol again," she starts saying uneasily._

 _Mrs Beckett looks at her with an encouraging smile. "You have to understand I won't tell a word to anyone, my dear, not even my own son. No matter what you tell me will remain between us unless you tell me otherwise." Louise nods in understanding "You're a recovering alcoholic, aren't you?" She nods again, tears of shame brimming in her eyes. "There's no shame in that, love. We all make mistakes. What I see is a young woman who had the courage to finally say no," she points out, peering at her._

 _Louise brushes off her tears. "I'm not young anymore, Ma'am. And I certainly don't feel courageous, just stupid." Mrs Beckett doesn't interrupt her as she pours out her former life to her, from the time things got awfully wrong to the point she felt she had no choice at the time but to drown her pain into alcohol._

She sighs as she witnesses the sun peak over the tree line on the opposite hill.

"I know now it was stupid and I'm paying dearly for it but at the time, I felt I had no other choice. It dulled the pain and as paradoxical as it seems, it kept me alive. What I did not realize was it also dulled my judgment. All I thought of was how I longed for it. I would wake up in the morning and that would be the only thing that would keep me going throughout the day – the thought I would come home at night, kick off my shoes and fix me a drink. Then a second one as I prepared my dinner and another in front of the TV. I would never drink during the day if I went to work. I'd only do it on off-days, starting before noon, taking very small quantities throughout the day. I had that code that I had decided on that I wouldn't drink if I went to work or if I had to drive. I was quite proud of myself, actually, thinking I was responsible and all. How dumb I was! Fact is, within a month, I was a boozer, pure and simple."

Mrs Beckett tilts her head and gives her a gentle smile. "You did what you thought you had to do. You said it yourself. It kept you alive. I won't tell you you were right but I won't judge you either, my dear. God knows, hopefully I'll never have to live what you've been through. And if I had, I cannot honestly say I wouldn't have done worse than you."

Louise steps closer and kisses her cheek gently. "Thank you for being so understanding," she says, keeping the tears at bay. She's cried way too much recently and always hates herself for doing so.

"If I may, dearie. What finally made you come to your senses?" Louise looks healthy and strong. A far cry from the person she imagines had given in to such an addiction.

Louise laughs humorlessly. "I needed a push in the right direction. I did try to stop drinking countless times – to no avail. I would stay strong for a couple of days, elated I had seemingly succeeded through sheer willpower. It was just lies I told myself. See, the booze might cease to have any effect on your body after a few days but the memory of the pleasure it gives you will last within your mind for the rest of your life. I relapsed every single time until my body finally collapsed under the strain."

Mrs Beckett immediately grasps the meaning of it. "You ended up in the ER." It's not a question. Of course, she did. Ma's seen enough lives turned upside down by alcohol right here in her village and family. Most people are not as lucky as Louise and end up dead after a few years.

Louise nods. "I was saved by my condition, ironically enough. Booze and diabetes, they don't really get on well. There was so much my body could take. Besides, alcohol intoxicates your brain as well as your body. It impairs your judgment. Soon enough, I forgot to eat regularly and when I did, I lost count of the carbs I took. Only liquor felt fulfilling. One day, I got distracted and forgot to eat altogether though I had had my shots of insulin. You can imagine the rest." Mrs Beckett squeezes her hand gently. The memory is pure torture for Louise, she sees. "It was one of the most embarrassing moments of my life – waking up in a hospital bed with an IV hooked to my arm and the glare of the doctor on call that day trained on me. She could have been the gentle, understanding type. Instead, she chose to be a bitch and gave me a talking to right away." Louise pouts then laughs. "It saved my life. She saved my life."

"You were lucky to even make it to the ER, dear," Mrs Beckett remarks, stunned by all she's just heard but mostly by Louise's sincerity.

"I was, yes. I was lucky I collapsed while taking out the trash. Had I stayed home alone that night, I might not have made it. I was on the verge of a coma when they rushed me to hospital. My temperature was dangerously low. The doctor told me it took them all night to raise it back to normal. Believe me, as much as I had wished I were dead those last few months, it was my wake up call."

"What happened then?"

"They fixed my blood sugar level and dehydration. With my consent, they enrolled me into rehab. I completed most of the steps and haven't drunk ever since though I must be honest with you – temptation will always lurk around the corner." She sighs. There. She's said it all. She hopes she hasn't plagued Mrs Beckett with all those negative thoughts. She tells her.

Ma laughs at the notion. "It would take much more to unsettle my good nature. I have seen worse in my lifetime, my dear, than a determined young woman like yourself changing her destiny for the better."

"I don't know about that, Ma'am. I'm pretty screwed up and I will stay that way." Louise looks wistfully towards the horizon. The sun is now high in the sky, the pinks and purples fading to give way to a clear, cloudless day.

"You mentioned you had not completed all the steps..." Mrs Beckett points out.

Louise bites her lower lip. "They wanted me to forgive myself. I could not. This was something I never allowed for. Guilt is part of me, as is my sense of compassion and my unwillingness to make concessions. This is who I am and how I was raised. It would have been a fat lie to say I did when I didn't. The program was what it was and in the end, they couldn't bend the rules to adjust them to my own quirky released me and wished me the best. They did give me some sound advice though. They said it was proven that people often relapsed when they found themselves back where they had started – in the same mentally unhealthy environment or simply when they returned to the routine of their lives and the same places where it had all begun. I took the advice and made the decision it was high time I had a change of scenery."

"Thus applying to be part of the expedition," Mrs Beckett adds logically.

Louise shakes her head and laughs. "No, thus applying for a Canadian visa. The expedition is yet another story."

"We should go back," Mrs Beckett says after a minute of comfortable silence. "Carson is going to get worried if we don't."

"Yeah. He's pretty protective and a worry wart," Louise banters.

His mother nods and smiles. "Always has, from the time he was a wee one. Not that I complain though. He's a good man."

Louise beams at her. "That he is! I do not know what we'd do without him."

Mrs Beckett hesitates then asks: "Do you consider my son as a friend, Ms Léger?"

"I do, yes," Louise replies without a trace of hesitancy. It's the first time she allows herself to say it out loud and she feels relieved she finally has.

"Well, then, dear... Aren't you ever going to tell him or your other friends on the expedition about all this?" She sees Louise blush, knowing of course it would only be fair. "You know, my dear, I'm not saying do it all at once or right now. I'm just saying start thinking hard about it. Friendship is earned with trust, not with half-truths or the concealment of it thereof. I know you want a second chance and I think you deserve it but your past is a part of you, whether you like it or not. You might be screwed up as you say but we all are. What we do with our mistakes and shortcomings is what makes us who we are in the end."

Louise nods her understanding and remains silent for the rest of the walk. She's always known that there's a fine line between what is right and what is easy. In the days that follow, they never talk about it again and when they leave to return to Cheyenne Mountain, their arms full of enough boxes of shortbread to feed all their friends, Mrs Beckett wraps her in her arms. "Godspeed, love, and be happy," she only whispers in her ear.

TBC


	22. Chapter 22

_Chapter 21 - Shortbread_

"I missed you," she whispers in John's ear as they all sit companionably in the sofas facing the TV set with boxes of shortbread opened on their laps and mugs of steaming tea Carson has prepared for them.

He bumps his shoulder against hers. "Right back at ya". He wolfes down a whole cookie and hums in delight. "Now, that's the real McCoy!" he says, waving yet another cookie at Carson, making him beam with pleasure at the compliment. "It would be heavenly with a dash of whisky in that hot water of yours, though," he adds wickedly.

Louise rolls her eyes at his antics. "Behave!" she chides him.

He sniggers. "Yes, Mom."

She tucks her tongue at him playfully but plays along anyway, choosing to tease Carson some more about the whisky. "I thought we had packed a few boxes of your favorite nectar, Doctor," she mentions in passing.

"Only for medical purposes, love," he banters back.

"Oh, come on," John pleads, bending towards the coffee table to set his mug down though it's still half full. "You don't expect me to finish that thing you call tea without something a little bit stronger in it, do you?"

Carson laughs out loud and relents. "Alright, Colonel, but only this time, to celebrate our return." He walks to the door. "I'll be right back."

They pass the bottle around. Louise silently gives thanks to whatever power is out there that it's not one of those days when she feels like giving in to some social drinking, telling herself it's no big deal to drink only one small glass if everyone is doing the same. She thanks Carson politely but refuses to have anything added to her tea and he doesn't insist.

They talk about their trip and where Carson has taken her. Rodney is sitting on the other side of her and at one point he sees her head droop a little as Carson is recounting their trip to Stirling Castle. He elbows her. "Might as well go to sleep, honey. You've had a long day... and trip," he adds, proud of his quip.

"Yeah, you're right. I'd better call it a day," she agrees.

"Oh, come on, Louise," John whines playfully. "You've just arrived and you said it yourself. You missed us, right? Can't take a little bit of whisky or a late evening party, granny?" he teases her and tries to pour some whisky in her mug as she grabs it from the coffee table, not seeing her blanch.

She stands abruptly, schooling herself to breath in and out very slowly, trying not to look scared. She sits the mug back on the coffee table then looks him in the eye, her gaze ice cold. "As a matter of fact, young man, no, I can't." She turns to the others, her gaze sweeping the room. "As you can see, I'm old now and need my beauty sleep more than ever so I'm bidding you all goodnight." She nods at them graciously, keeping a smile on her face when she wants to scream in frustration. It's not she's ready to relapse. It's just she's scared of being cornered and she's disappointed such a nice evening should end on a sour note, though she knows it's all her fault. _Friendship is not earned with half-truths_ , she remembers Mrs Beckett's remark.

Everyone looks embarrassed but bids her goodnight all the same. She's half-way through the corridor when she hears Rodney growl at John. "Way to go, Sheppard, once again! What is it with Louise? Have you made it a personal task to make her life miserable and embarrass her every possible way?" She shakes her head in sadness and trudges to the nearest transporter.

Back in the room, Elizabeth who has observed the scene without saying a word, finally decides things have to stop before they get ugly. "Now, now, Rodney. I know you feel it's your duty to protect Ms Léger but this is something between her and John. And I'm sure he's dying to leave this room and find her to apologize, right, John?"

He sighs. "I'm not so sure it's such a good idea, Elizabeth. She's pretty upset right now and an upset Louise is a stubborn Louise. She won't listen to me," he reasons.

"Yeah, convince yourself of that, will you?" Rodney replies sourly. "That way you won't have to face her and explain why you pushed her buttons – again!"

John pouts at him. "And what should I tell her if I go and see her, uh? She's pissed at me. She won't hear me out."

"You could start by saying you're sorry, Sheppard. It often works, you know," Ronon suggests sarcastically.

"Do you want me to go and talk to her, John?" Teyla offers.

He shakes his head. "Nope. This is between her and me, Elizabeth is right, and yes, Rodney, I know I was wrong. I don't know what got into me. That was stupid. I should have walked her to her room and said goodnight. If you'll all excuse me, I'm going to try and repair the damage before it gets out of hand. Good night."

Elizabeth and Teyla smile at him. "Goodnight, John." Ronon smirks at him knowing Louise won't probably resist John's puppy looks. Rodney makes a face but refuses to look his friend in the eye, being majorly pissed.

Carson looks worrisome and follows John outside. "If I may, Colonel," he calls after him.

John stops in his track and turns to him, aggravated. "What? You too want to read me the riot act?"

Carson shakes his head sadly. "No, Colonel. I just wanted to tell you that the trip to Earth seems to have done wonders to our little cook – against all odds I might say. She's more open, she sleeps better, she's regained weight. I just want you to be careful with how you handle this. She cares a lot about you and about what you think of her. She might have lashed out at you on the spur of the moment but I'm sure she'll rather retreat into her shell than tell you what's wrong and make you feel guilty. Don't let her."

John nods, looking worried now too. "I won't. I promise I will try my best not to be my usual elephant inside a china shop self."

When he reaches her door, he gets a sense of déja vu. It seems he's back to square one and it's hardly the first time. Like a chacha – one step forward and one step back. That's how he sees his friendship with Louise. Actually, he doesn't even know if she sees him as a friend or only tolerates his presence. _But she did say she'd missed you,_ he reasons.

She answers the door right way, looking cool and unruffled on the surface. "Yes, John, what can I do for you?"

He winces. He'd much prefer she were mad at him. "Louise, eh, sorry to bother you. I know you need to sleep. I just..." he hesitates, not knowing what to say. "I'm sorry" seems too blunt. He's never been good at this whole connecting to other people thing.

"That's OK. As you can see, I'm not ready for bed yet. Would you like to come in?" she offers politely.

"As a matter of fact... would you mind taking a walk with me?"

"Why?" She crosses her arms defensively on her chest.

 _Here goes,_ he smirks inwardly _. You couldn't look aloof and indifferent that long. You're pissed at me, big time!_ "That's blunt!" he remarks.

"So French!" she retorts, sniggering. She raises her eyebrows expectantly.

He huffs. "Because I need to apologize for my behavior and I don't know where to start!"

"So you're making it as you go along, right?" she mocks him.

He pouts. "Alright! Yes, I am. Happy?"

"Not really, no. Listen. You don't need to apologize. You had drunk a little. You acted on the spur of the moment. I get it. No big deal!" she replies, trying to look indifferent.

"Louise..." he pleads.

"OK..." She relents and grabs her jacket then steps into the corridor. "Lead the way..." she motions for him to go first.

They walk in silence for a few minutes and head towards the west pier. He edges closer the longer they walk, finally mustering the courage to take hold of her hand. She jumps at the contact and tries to free her hand but he holds on tight. "John," she pleads. ""I'm not comfortable with physical contact. Don't push it."

"I'm not either and you know it, Louise, but I've used up all solutions to connect to you so humor me for a sec'."

She looks hurt. "And I, you, John. Maybe we were not meant to connect in the first place..."

He looks up in alarm and freezes. "I'm sorry I spoiled your evening. I am. You're right. I'd had a drink. Not enough to be plastered but enough to be careless and I acted stupid though I still don't know why you reacted so strongly. Now, Louise, there's no need to become cruel," he points out, looking hurt too.

"I'm not being cruel, John. Just realistic. You and I – we're too different to be friends. I'm ordinary and you're Captain Handsome. You're always so cool with girls and I'm always so awkward with men – make it everyone!" she adds in a self-deprecating tone.

"Agh!" he groans, letting go of her hand and grabbing her shoulders, suddenly feeling the urge to shake her. "Where did that come from? Damn it! You, lady, are not ordinary and if you sometimes act like you don't belong around other human beings, it's because you've decided somewhere along the way for whatever reason I'll someday extract from you, through torture if I must," he adds, majorly pissed, "that you should retreat into your shell to protect yourself. Don't you see it? You and I are not so different. I act cool when I'm not because it helps me blend in and I know you're learning to do that too but deep down, you and I are the same." He looks into her eyes, making her blink. "Not meant to be friends, you say? Yeah, sure!" he sniggers, releasing her suddenly, making her lose her balance.

She feels herself stumbling backwards and grabs his jacket with both hands. She looks up, her jaw set and eyes narrowing at him. "I hate you, John Sheppard!"

"Right back at ya," he answers cockily, mirroring his earlier answer in the TV room.

They stay like that for what feels like an eternity, not daring to move. There's nothing else to say. She was cruel to him, yes. He spoke his mind and opened his heart more than he ever did here in the City, with anyone. She has a knack for testing his patience, over and over again, infuriating him to the point when he doesn't care about looking so cool anymore.

"Where do we go from here?" he finally wonders out loud.

She releases the lapels of his jacket and takes a step back. She shrugs. "I think everything's been said."

"Oh, no, lady, no, no! I won't let you retreat into your shell once again. Damn it! We've worked so hard for this friendship to work and now you're telling me we're just going our own ways?!" he growls, his eyes intent on her, making her shudder.

"I wish you would just let it go, John. We can work together. We don't need to be friends for that." She's keeping the tears at bay, steeling herself. She knows she's wrong and she knows it's a pattern in her. When things get too complicated, when she becomes more intimate with people, she always severes the bonds. It's easier that way. _But is it right?_ A little nagging voice whispers to her. It's not of course, she knows that. God knows it was much easier to speak to Carson's mother! Obviously so because nothing bonds them yet. But with John, it's different. If she lets him closer to her heart, she'll get hurt and it scares her to death.

He's crossed his arms defensively on his chest and is observing her, his jaw set too. "Don't utter words you'll then regret, Louise," he warns her.

She holds her head high and looks him in the eyes. She's chosen. She just needs a little more courage and ties will be severed. She'll return to her old self and she won't have to hurt so much anymore, won't have to abide by the laws of friendship and let them know who she really is. She smirks self-deprecatingly. Villains never get their happy endings and everyone she used to know had made it adamant to her she certainly did not deserve hers. "I won't," she replies, her words final and cutting like a knife.

He flinches but refuses to let go. Whatever happened not an hour ago cannot possibly end what they've started. He won't let her, even if he has to fight her for it. He makes the choice of letting it go – for now – because they're tired and at odds and will only hurt each other more. He winces. "Right, as usual, you decide and I have to comply. This is the way it is with you. Let me tell you something, sweetie. You can shut me out and ignore me all you want but at the end of the day, you'll always be my friend." He leans in and kisses her gently on her cheek then on second thought, adds another peck on her nose. "I love you and nothing, not even your bitchy attitude, will change that," he whispers in her ear before turning tail and leaving her standing at the edge of the pier.

She remains standing there, her arms wrapped around herself against the cold night air for who knows how long, refusing to let the tears fall. _I should have just told him why I reacted that way. I should have come clean about everything. Carson's mother was right. I can't go on like this._ Then that pesky little voice comes nagging at her again. _Yeah, sure, you betcha. Go ahead, tell them! You'll see if they react differently from your so-called friends and family when you told them about your condition, about your addiction, about everything. You think John wants someone so screwed up in his life? Do you even think you deserve him? Deserve any of them? Stop deluding yourself and do what's right for you or soon you'll be kicked out of Atlantis and where will you go, uh?_ She shakes her head to clear her thoughts. Too much thinking isn't good for anyone, especially her. She needs to keep her mind and hands busy. That's what used to work. It should again.

She lets her hands drop to her sides and walks back to the door after taking one last look at the ocean and the City. This was enough when she came here. Why is it not anymore?

TBC


	23. Chapter 23

_Chapter 22 - Crepes_

 _Couple of questions before we start. Been wondering about two things._

 _One, does anyone still read this, apart from my very faithful reviewer – Guest 64. You always make my day. Thank you :)_

 _And two, is anyone interested in the recipes I publish?_

 _Anyway, I hope you'll have fun with this new chapter. I had!_

He observes her from afar, his shoulder leaning on the doorway. She's making piles of crepes for breakfast, sprinkling some with melted butter, sugar and cinnamon while filling others with jam or chocolate hazelnut spread she's made from scratch.

He refused to taste it at first, contending it looked gross but seeing how everyone liked it, came round some days ago and now has to admit he's addicted. She's explained to him it's a staple back on Earth but she prefers to make it herself – child's play and much healthier as she put it. He's shrugged and informed her, his mouth full, making her cringe a little, whatever she thinks is OK with him. No complaint about her food – ever.

She looks happy out there, doing what she probably loves the most – apart from her reading, that is. These past weeks, ever since the incident as they've all learnt to call it behind their backs, she's been spotted doing any one of these – cooking and reading – and nothing else. She's declined coming to their Friday night, contending she had too much work to do with testing new recipes. John has been more than snarky with everyone including Elizabeth, finally leaving at the end of the meal and not staying for their usual after-dinner games.

He sees she's spotted him at last so he leaves his spot by the door and heads her way. She graces him with a smile. "Thought you already had breakfast, Ronon... Coming for seconds," she teases him, offering him a plate full of steaming crepes.

He shakes his head. "No, thanks, Louise. I'm full." She looks at him expectantly. "Actually, I'm here for you. I'm supposed to escort you to the armory."

Her eyebrows shoot to her hairline. "And why is that? There's no off-world mission today, as I recon."

He shakes his head. "Nope, Ma'am. You're next in line for the training program we've set for non-military personnel."

She rolls her eyes, exasperated. What has John invented already? "I can't leave my workstation, as I'm sure you can see," she replies, motioning to the searing hot frying pans in front of her with her spatula.

"It's OK, Ma'am, I'll fill in for you," Private Wilson tells her. The tall and lanky blond is already ladling food on plates for the early birds waiting in line to be served breakfast.

"No, you won't. I refuse to be bullied into shifting my schedule at a moment's notice just to suit Colonel Sheppard's own agenda," she adds indignantly, glaring at Ronon.

He lifts his hands in mock surrender, knowing these days she's a bundle of nerves. "Don't kill the messenger," he banters, grinning.

"Actually, Ma'am, it was planned in yesterday's meeting. Dr Weir's orders," Wilson elaborates, seeing the other woman is fuming. "She figured this morning was as good as any for you and since you're planning another off-world mission soon, it was best to do it as soon as possible."

"And when was she going to tell me?" Louise says through clenched teeth, not wanting to make a scene in front of everyone.

"She's telling you now," Ronon says matter-of-fact. "Now, come on. We're already late."

She relunctantly discards her apron and follows him to the nearest transporter. "I don't see why I have to do this. I went off-world before. Had no military training. Came back alive," she states, trying to keep her temper at bay.

"Oh because, as I was told, you did so well back then!" he replies sarcastically.

She clenches her fists, fuming. "Well, yeah, most of the times!"

"You're a pretty little liar, Ms Léger. You were lucky people were watching your back." He sees her flinch then her eyes light up and he stops her before she has the time to use her trump card. "Oh, no, lady! No way you're telling me how you killed a Wraith single-handedly."

"But I did!" she replies smugly.

"Sure. Next time you encounter a big bad wolf at the corner of a dark off-world forest, be sure to tell him to wait until you've boiled pots of oil," he mocks her.

She sneers at him. "Ah! Very funny, big guy! You can make fun of me all you want, I still finished him with a knife to his chest."

He reaches for his belt and grabs his own knife, flipping it in his hand to hand it to her, hilt first. "That's a knife, lady," he informs her smugly. "You're soon going to learn how to use one of these, since you seem to have a taste for hand to hand combat. Come on, take it," he adds, seeing her hesitate. She shakes her head and leaves the transporter in a hurry as its doors whoosh open. He laughs out loud. "I thought so. Barks a lot, never bites. Sheppard was right!" he mocks her, making her flinch.

She bites her bottom lip. _Is it how her former friend sees her?_

They reach the armory and are welcomed by Atlantis' 2IC. His arms are crossed on his chest. He gives her a once-over. "You're late," he chides her.

She feels like tucking her tongue at him. She sneers. "Well, excuse me, Sir, if I have other fish to fry!"

"Well, Ms Léger, sorry if I contradict you on that, but no, you don't. This morning, and until I say otherwise, you're all mine," he informs her coolly.

The snarky exchange is not lost on any of the marines who've been training with their commander. A couple of them snort, making Louise cringe and John turn to them abruptly. "Anything interesting to share here, people?" His eyes sweep the room. Louise feels like the room's temperature has been turned down low. "I thought so," he says. "Session's over. Get going."

They all file out of the room quietly.

"No need to be nasty to your subordinates. You sound like Buckley," Louise adds viciously.

He trains his eyes on her. "It was not for their benefit but yours, sweetie. You need to know who's in charge here and right now, it's not you so, gear up," he says motioning towards the locker room. "Wear something comfortable and light. I'm going to teach you how things are done on the field."

She glances at Ronon who's sat on one of the benches lining the room. He indicates for her with a look towards the changing room to do what she's told. She trudges towards it and to her locker.

"You can leave now if you want, Dex," Sheppard offers. "I only needed you to get the little minx onto my territory. I'll handle it from here."

"Oh, no," Ronon replies. "You're not staying alone with her. I know you're tempted to kick her ass so I'll just stay around. Besides," he laughs at seeing the sneer forming on John's lips, "I'm having way too much fun seeing you try to scare her."

The first part of her morning is dedicated to learning how to use weapons. She's joined by a few other non-military personnel who, like her, have never touched a gun in their lives. Safety instruction is boring and she gets distracted by the close proximity of the 2IC who walks back and forth behind them, correcting postures, giving advice, barking orders when they forget the basic safety rules. Ronon helps too but she's got the impression John spends more time behind her than anybody else.

By the end of the practice session, she's able to both use a P-90 as well as a P-14 though never succeeding in hitting the bull, only the side of the target. All scientists training with her barely do better but she's the one getting all the snarky remarks. She shuts up about it and waits until the session is over and all the other trainees have exited the room in a hurry, not wanting to lag behind, seeing how the 2IC is moody these days. "Why did I have to take the blame when they did no better than me?" she accuses him, hands on her hips, fuming.

He gets into her personal space, looming over her. "Because, my dear, they don't often go off-world and you do. As cute as it is, I don't want to have to constantly watch your six," he replies nastily.

Ronon clears his throat. "Sheppard, careful there. Remember Dr Weir's orders..." he warns him.

"Oh yeah, right. Sorry, I forgot! For a sec' I was mistaken into thinking the little pesky lady here was my friend and I could tease all I want without being threatened with accusations of sexual harrassment!" he sniggers. He bows to her mockingly. "I apologize, my lady."

She rolls her eyes but doesn't want him to have the upper hand. "Actually, that's rather a compliment. Didn't know you found my butt to your liking," she sneers and turns to leave the room.

Before she has the time to do so, he's grabbed a fighting stick and hits her lower back with it, making her lose her balance and fall flat on her belly. She scrambles to her feet. "What was that for?" she cries indignantly. "Have you lost your mind?"

Ronon laughs out loud. "You have to admit, chef, he got you there all right!"

She puts her hands on her hips and glares at them both. "Not funny and not fair either!"

John nods. "You're right. I apologize. Grab a couple of those," he says as he gets hold of another stick.

She looks non-plussed. "You didn't think your training session was over, did you?" he deadpans. "It's barely 10:00. We've still got plenty of time."

"And I don't!" she replies, refusing to budge. "I have lunch to prepare."

"Not today, sweetie. Dr Weir has ordered the chef to get his butt to the kitchen to do his job for once."

"Oh great!" she huffs. "All I needed to make this day even brighter. He's going to kill me for that."

"Actually, he's not," John mocks her. "He's looking forward to hearing from your first session of hand to hand combat! Now, come on, baby," he says, motioning for her to get closer.

She crosses her arms on her chest. "Certainly not!"

He narrows his eyes at her and circles her, getting into a fighting stance. "Suit yourself, sweetie. If you want to have your ass kicked, I'll be most happy to comply!" Which he does, hitting her on her lower back again and behind her knees before she has the time to see it coming. She falls to the floor again and yells. "Are you crazy? What gives you the right to hurt me, you jerk?!"

"Elizabeth, myself and the fact you won't survive one second in the open without your knight in shining armor by your side." He makes a show of thinking hard about it, as he walks to her side but doesn't give her a hand. "Let me see, who would that be? Oh yes, me! The guy you keep at arms' length! So next time you head off-world, babe, think about it. I won't be by your side because you simply won't let me. So now, you have to learn to fend for yourself. Get up," he yells, his hands already flipping the sticks, ready to strike.

Ronon warns him. "Go easy on her, man. It's only her first session."

Sheppard grins at him. "You're right, buddy! Plenty of others before I allow her back off-world. Ain't we gonna have fun in the meantime!" he sneers.

She finally gets up and grabs her sticks, knowing it's to no avail. He won't let her go down easy. Knowing how stubborn he is, he's going to kick her ass until she relents and fights back. She sighs and sets her feet firmly on the mat. "Good girl," he says with a smirk before striking again.

He's scheduled a session for the next morning. When she gets up, she can barely walk. She trudges to the infirmary to see if Carson can give her something so she won't feel so stiff. His expression turns from sympathetic to indignant when he sees the bruises on her arms and legs. "Colonel Sheppard, please report to the infirmary." He glares at his friend when he arrives. "What have you done to her? Is that payback for refusing to talk to you? I swear, Sheppard, if you hurt her to satisfy your wounded feelings, I'll have Elizabeth transfer you to the infirmary for an indefinite amount of time. I might not have sticks but I've got needles – long, painful ones..." he warns him.

John shrugs. "It's part of the training. And I don't have wounded feelings. How could I? I'd need a friend who's pushed me away. Does that look like me?" he sniggers, glancing at Louise from the corner of his eye. She flushes and looks away. He walks to her, not letting go. "You ratted on me, you minx," he accuses her. "Can't take a little roughing up?"

"Don't talk to her like that! Either you two make peace or so help me God, I'll call Elizabeth," Carson warns him, his hand ready to hit his communicator.

John rolls his eyes. "OK. Tell you what. Give me your miracle ointment for bruises. I'll apply it myself." He impatiently motions for him to pass it on but Beckett hesitates, seeing Louise's pleading look. "I swear I won't hurt her. Here. Peace offering. No physical training today. We'll just do a little bit of target practice. OK?" he asks Louise, raising his eyebrows.

She silently nods and hangs her head. It's gonna be a long day. It's five in the morning. She's cried herself to sleep last night, only to be woken up by muscle tightness and nightmares. She hasn't started breakfast yet and the chef has sniggered all he could at her last night. Yeah, it's gonna be a great day!

She walks out of the infirmary with him by her side, the proximity making her awkward. "I need to get breakfast ready, Colonel. When do you need me in the armory?" Her voice is strained. She doesn't dare look at him.

"Louise, I will never hurt you, you know that, right?" he says, stopping her with a hand on her arm, making her flinch as she feels the bruise underneath his thumb. He drops his hand, wincing when he sees her look of pain.

"You just have, Sir," she counters, refusing to call him by his name.

"Listen, you need to apply this gel on your bruises asap. Let's drop in the locker room. I'll do it for you and then walk you to the kitchens," he offers.

"I can't. I'm already late. I'll do it when I can," she answers before leaving hurriedly.

He comes by with Ronon and Teyla around six to get breakfast. Teyla tries to lure her to their table but she refuses, being late in her schedule. Teyla chides him. "You didn't have to be so hard on her. She's not military."

"But she still needs to learn to fend for herself. It might prove very useful in the future," he replies stubbornly.

"Truth is, Sheppard, you're not treating her fair," Ronon insists. "If you can't accept she doesn't want you around anymore then let someone else train her." John glares at him.

"Are you by any chance trying to find ways to be with her even though she was clear about wanting you to leave her alone, John Sheppard?" Teyla says suspiciously. "Because if you do, that's plain harrassment..."

John looks at her sheepishly. "She's my friend, damn it! How can I let her wall herself up alive and not do anything about it? It's just not me she's pushing away, Teyla. It's everyone. Rodney told me she doesn't go and have tea with Katie anymore, doesn't drop by at his lab to chat with him and Zelenka... Ask anyone! She's shutting us out. I won't let her. You can decide to respect her wishes and let her slip away from you but I sure won't!" He stands abruptly and heads toward Louise, handing her the tray he's barely touched.

She looks surprised. "You've barely eaten, Colonel. Can I get you something else?"

He shakes his head, his jaw set, looking hurt. "No, Ma'am. I think I've lost my appetite. I expect you in the armory as soon as you can. Call me when you're ready. I'll join you there."

She dallies until she can't anymore, having done everything she could for the preparation of the midday meal. The chef is more than happy to kick her out, reminding her Sheppard has already called him twice to let her join him.

She drops by at the locker room first to change then heads for the armory. He's sitting on a bench, reading his book. No one else is around. "Where's everyone?" she asks, feeling awkward. She doesn't like being cornered and it feels like it.

"It's just you and me today. I know you hurt and I'm sorry about that. We're going to take it slow. I promise I won't bark orders or feel the need to be snarky. Is that OK, Louise?" He hasn't moved and he's spoken in that subdued way he usually uses for her. She feels tears welling up. Come to think about it, she'd much prefer the yelling. She doesn't know how long she's gonna be able to bear his constant mood swings.

She nods. "OK, Colonel."

"John. My name is John, Louise." She nods again. "Say it, Louise," he insists, standing to walk to her.

"Alright, John," she relents. No need to be at odds when he's obviously trying to make peace offerings.

"Sit here," he says, pointing at a bench. "I'm going to put ointment on your bruises." She doesn't dare say no, seeing he's making efforts. He starts by applying it to her arms then rolls up the legs of her yoga pants to put some more on her calves. He winces. "Damn it, Louise. I didn't know you could bruise that easily." He carefully massages the ointment onto her skin. It's cold and immediately does wonders to her muscle ache. She sighs. "Better?" he asks when finished.

She nods her thanks. "Do you feel up to a little session of safety rules and target practice?" he offers.

"Do I have the choice?" she wonders, looking up at him as he stands and offers his hand.

"Not if you want to go back off-world for our next mission." The words are final but the tone at least is gentle.

She tentatively puts her hand in his. She realizes she needs it. Her leg muscles are still stiff in spite of the massage. "Thank you," she says before removing her hand cautiously. Truth be told, she misses the touch immediately. _You don't know what you had until you've lost it_ , her granny used to say.

He motions for her to follow him. "Since you need to be operational earlier than most, I think you should have private lessons, so to speak. Ronon and Teyla will help train you, depending on your schedule, if that's OK with you." She nods her agreement. He checks a P-14, hands it to her and circles her to stand right behind her, wrapping his hands on hers to correct her posture. "John," she pleads. "I don't feel comfortable with you doing that."

He takes the gun from her hands and sits it on the stand in front of them then steps back. "Sorry. Habits die hard. We didn't have problems with being close recently. I got used to it. I shouldn't have. I'll instruct you from a respectable distance," he promises, wincing at the rebuttal.

She turns to him and pouts, embarrassed. "Sorry. It's not you. It's just me..."

He bites his lower lip. "I said no problem, Louise. It won't happen again."

She trains hard for a couple of weeks, trying her hand at everything she's being told could be of use. The chef has let her off the hook, seeing how tired she is. This is his sweet revenge, even though he has to work harder in the kitchens than he probably ever had to before.

John has learnt his lesson a little bit too well and is hardly ever there when she trains, letting Ronon do most of the job. She discovers the Satedan is very much like McKay in some ways that suit her down to the ground. He doesn't push her limits, except on the shooting range or mat, doesn't ask her embarrassing questions, only taking what she gives and no more. Soon enough John discovers they're best buddies, hanging out at the mess hall or taking walks through the City, gently steering her back towards the team, making her sit with them at night, walking with her to Rodney's lab whom he likes to pester or even to Katie's greenhouse. John watches them from afar but never joins in.

She hasn't returned to their Friday nights though. Elizabeth mentions it in passing as they're having lunch together. He falls silent for so long she thinks he's never going to answer her. He finally looks at her, wincing. "I think I screwed up, 'Lizabeth. I thought she was punishing me for being an ass and she'd come round somehow but she doesn't need me anymore. She's got Ronon and Mc Kay..."

"She's always had McKay," she corrects him. "From the start. He met her before you did. And if the Athosians had stayed, I bet she'd spend lots of time with Halling as well. She doesn't want to admit it, John, but she has a lot of people who care about her in the City."

"Yeah... She doesn't need me anymore," he says, peering into his mug of now cold coffee.

She chuckles. "John Sheppard, are you going to have a depression?" she banters.

"I already have a depression, 'Lizabeth," he banters back.

"Should I ask Dr Heightmeyer to schedule a few sessions?" Her eyes crinkle but he sees she's worried as well.

"Nah. I'll survive." He falls silent again. "Where have all those great moments gone? Come on! We had such a great time and now, everyone is tiptoeing around us. It's like we're having a divorce, for Christ's sake, and we were not even a couple!"

She chuckles. "An odd couple, perhaps, John. There are very different types of love in this world, I believe. Friends are a kind of couple. They have their own very special way of functioning and sometimes it takes time and patience to make it work."

He shakes his head in disbelief at her own patience with him. "I'm a basket case, 'Lizabeth. Forget about it. It will never work."

"What will never work?" Ronon is standing next to their table with a tray laden with food, as usual.

"John thinks he's lost Louise's friendship," Elizabeth elaborates.

Ronon shakes his head and sits next to her. "That's ridiculous. She loves you, stupid. You two are just too stubborn to realize all it takes is a laid-back conversation and a hug to get you back on track."

"Argh, I don't know Ronon. I made the wrong choices. I pushed her to her limits. And I didn't achieve anything except scare her off a little more." He sighs. This conversation should not even be happening. He hates talking about his feelings. And what on Earth is Elizabeth going to think about all this? "I'm sorry about all this," he tells her. "Louise was like the sister I never had. I thought I could have a friendship with a girl without the awkwardness that often goes with it. I guess I was in for a big disappointment from the start."

She lifts her eyebrows at him. "Well, thank you, John for the insight. It will spare me the trouble of thinking you might consider me as a friend too!"

They hear Ronon snigger but ignore him. "Wow, hey, what?" John sputters. "I never said that!"

"Yes, you did," she counters.

He lifts his finger to shush her. "That's something totally different, 'Lizabeth. You're... you! The rule doesn't apply when it comes to you. God, human relationships are too complicated," he says, standing. "I'll head for Rodney's lab." She follows him with her eyes, letting the underlying meaning of his words sink in and sighs with longing.

They wait for him to leave before they start chuckling. "Pretty complicated people, those two," Ronon remarks. "I think they just need a push in the right direction and the sooner the better."

"Why is that, Mr Dex?" She looks surprised he might even consider intervening.

"Well, for one," he elaborates, pointing at his food with his fork, "I'm tired of eating tasteless stuff and burned meat and I'm not the only one. We need Sheppard to let her off the hook and back on missions and in her kitchens and to do so, they need to be on speaking terms again. And secondly, I miss our Friday nights. It's not the same without her and him sitting side by side."

"May I remind you the food service issue won't be entirely solved even if they become friends again. There's still one tiny little problem called Buckley who's still not reached our expectations," she counters.

He tastes his meat and makes a face. "If you ask me, he never will. But Ma'am, one problem at a time. We'll find a way to get rid of him one way or another."

"Haven't caught him red-handed yet, I gather," she pouts.

"Nope. He's pretty sneaky. He's seen the cameras, knows we're watching him. I think Louise is pretty resilient as well. She doesn't want to talk about it but, apart from these last two weeks of intensive training, he abuses his powers. We'll find a way, Ma'am, and if bad comes to worse, you still have the option of leaving me for five minutes alone with him. Five minutes is all I ask. Think about it," he says, winking.

TBC

 _Extract from Louise's Cookbook_

 _We need to be self-sufficient here on Atlantis so though Nutella comes in jars on Earth, I make my own here._

 _For 1 ½ cup for hazelnut chocolate spread:_

 _2/3 cup roasted, unsalted hazelnuts finely grounded_

 _¾ cup sweetened condensed milk_

 _½ cup unsweetened chocolate, chopped_

 _3 tbsp honey or agave_

 _In the food processor, ground the hazelnuts until they turn into butter for about 5 mn._

 _Melt the chocolate with the milk._

 _Add the hazelnut butter and mix no more than 2 mn._

 _Taste then add honey or agave to your liking._


	24. Chapter 24

_Chapter 23_

 _Hi everyone. I was told that John and Ronon might be a little OOC because of how much more they talk in my fic than in the series. I do agree but have found no solution to this. So, I apologize. I did say I was trying to keep this story as Canon as possible, plot-wise. I'm being very careful with finding ways of not disrupting the series' timeline and sometimes, it's quite tricky. As for John's and Ronon's behaviors, I'm well aware they're more open and talkative than in the show. I'll endeavor to do my best._

 _Again, thank you for reading and rewieving. It always makes my day._

 _Spoilers for Conversion and the Lost Boys._

She feels left out these days. They've finally completed her initial training and John has relunctantly allowed her back on the mission logs but never again is she invited to join their team. A lot happens and it seems they don't have time for her anymore. Elizabeth has enough on her plate too that she doesn't want to bother her with it.

She strikes a friendship with Doctor Zelenka whom she's always found very considerate with her, even before he knew her name and only referred to her as "the cook". Now, he calls her Ms Léger, never Louise, so she doesn't overstep the boundaries either, knowing how it feels to have people take for granted you'll adapt to them and not the contrary.

They haven't been on the City long enough to have time for a lot of celebrations and they tend to organize parties on the spur of the moment, even for Christmas that once again is not a grand affair, just a few decorations here and there though, John has made the effort to find a tree on some off-world mission. Elizabeth has asked Buckley and herself to organize a small dinner party and the Daedalus has brought them enough staples to make it look like the real thing. She bakes pies and heaps of cookies for that night. Her fruity Christmas puddings are already waiting in the pantry to be set on the tables.

She leaves the kitchens way after everyone has gone to bed. She's finally finished her preparations and cleaned everything. Her two prep-cooks are the last ones to leave before her, urging her to go to bed. She pushes them gently towards the door, bidding them goodnight, saying she won't be a minute when she knows there's still plenty to do on the list the chef has left her.

He always does that – sets priorities for the day that could only be achieved with twice the staff they have, does a small part of it and then lets her finish it off before she can go to bed. She's realized he doesn't know how to plan in a kitchen and mostly plays it by ear and then uses his ordinary leverage on her – "if you say a word about it or don't do it, I'll have you sacked" – to make her do the rest.

She shrugs as she leaves the kitchens, thinking hard about why she still wants to slave away here when she could simply return to Earth. But she knows it's still not the right moment, if ever she'll be ready to head back there. When she imagines herself years from now, she prays she won't ever be told she's been reassigned.

She sees him standing in the middle of the hall, his hands on his hips, admiring the tree that's finally been decorated with lights and tinsel. He hears her approach and turns, smiling briefly, as if caught off-guard. "Hi," she greets him, embarrassed to find him here on his own. "Nice tree."

"Yeah, it is. Hope everyone will have a good time tomorrow..." He voice trails off, unsure of what to say next.

"Have you had dinner, Colonel?" she asks, then seeing his look of reproach corrects herself. "John..."

He gives her a terse smile. "Yeah, thanks."

"Would you like a cup of coffee and some cookies? I have whole batches in the storage area." She knows he has a sweet tooth and back when they were still on speaking terms, he'd drop by almost every night to have some with her – his nightcap he'd call it.

"Wouldn't want you to be at odds with Buckley."

"Oh, yeah, well, he's not here and I'm sure he wouldn't mind you'd get a treat after such hard work," she says, motioning to the tree.

"OK, if it's not too much trouble, then..." He feels awkward like the first times they met.

"It's not. Please, come in," she says walking back to the kitchen. He follows her inside and waits for her to offer him a seat, which she does before heading for the pantry. He hates the discomfort that is settling in his stomach. He stands as she enters the kitchen again with a plateful of soft snickerdoodles. "I know you like these," she offers him the plate but sees his look of embarrassment.

"Look, Louise. I shouldn't have come. You're probably looking forward to a good night's sleep and I'm keeping you awake. I'll just go now."

She bites her bottom lip, keeping the disappointment from showing. She's made efforts like Ronon has told her and she was hoping this could be it, the moment she's waited for for weeks now – the moment when they mend their wounds and she'll pour out her heart and secrets to him over milk and cookies. She nods. "Yeah, sure, of course. I'm tired and you must be too. Please, at least take these," she says, handing him the plate he accepts relunctantly.

He gives her a terse smile. "Thanks. I'll just go now then," he repeats, at a loss for something else to say. He feels he's made a big mistake but he doesn't know if it was coming to the kitchen in the first place or leaving like a thief.

On second thought, he tries his hand at making small talk, not wanting to leave without at least attempting to be civil. "Will you be there tomorrow for dinner?" he asks, knowing once dinner is ready, they're all supposed to take turns so everyone at least enjoys a part of the feast.

The butterflies in her stomach grow to epic proportions. She feels the tears choking in her throat but doesn't want him to see how disappointed she is. "No, I don't think I'll be able to, with preps and all. I probably won't leave the kitchen the whole evening."

"Oh, right, sorry. Had not thought about that." He feels miserable and dumb. Why did he have to remind her she won't be allowed to have some fun like the rest of them? He lifts the plate. "Hey, thanks for the cookies."

"You're welcome. Goodnight," she says, waiting for him to leave before she heads towards her own quarters.

"Night, Louise," he mumbles.

Once she's served dessert that night, she makes a quick exit as everyone is listening to Elizabeth's speech. Weir sees her but doesn't call after her and mums the word, pretty sure Louise doesn't want to be around John or probably anyone right now.

She's seen her today when she came to drop her a tray for lunch and she's looked even more down than she has ever since things have gone wrong between her and Sheppard. She's tried to talk to him about it – encouraged him to go and see her.

She's talked to Dr Heightmeyer about them too, wondering if it wouldn't be a good thing to make them talk to each other but Kate is not so sure it's the right path. "What if they never come round? The longer we wait, the more awkward it gets between them and Louise has taken it upon herself to leave the group so things wouldn't be difficult at social events. She doesn't even come to our movie nights anymore..." Elizabeth is worried for them both. They were good for each other. Now the spell is broken.

Kate tells her to give them time and if nothing changes, she agrees to set appointments for them, maybe even group therapy if they agree to it, which Elizabeth knows none of them will accept but still, it could be a great incentive to force them to find a solution.

The light at the end of the tunnel comes unexpectedly with two events that once more Elizabeth and her team would have gladly dispensed of – John's conversion and their encounter with Aiden's boys and subsequent forray into a hive ship, both of which leaving Louise desperate as she first witnesses her friend turn into a dangerous creature then be captured with very little hope of ever finding him alive.

She's in the storage area when he suddenly appears by her side, scaring the hell out of her. There is something about him that is different today but she doesn't dare tell him so and humors him when he grins at her and offers to help her. Something is obviously off as he never comes down here and there's a cocky, sexy glim in his eyes as he observes her while she decides what to do. "Come on, sweetie. I come all the way down here and you don't want to accept my help..." he says enticingly, coming closer.

"Well, Colonel, I have to admit, I'm pretty done here. If you want to be of any help, why don't you come with me upstairs. I still have a few crates to open. The Daedalus brought us treats I haven't had time to unpack..." She's trying to lure him back where there'll be people around. She's never been afraid of him before, not even when he kicked her ass and left bruises in the gym room.

He gets into her personal space before she has the time to say cookie and stands toe to toe with her, looking down in her eyes, making her blink.

That's when she sees the dilated pupils that are turning a liquid amber. Like vampires, is all that comes to her mind, being mesmerized by the thought she might indeed be in danger from the very person she trusts most with her life. He raises his hand slowly and tentatively brushes a strand of hair from her cheek. She's let it grow longer recently, not caring much how it looks. "I like your new haircut," he whispers. "You look different. More girly..."

She giggles at the notion though her stomach is doing somersaults. What will happen if she moves? Will he take it as a threat and attack her? She barely dares to breathe.

"I miss you, Léger. Very much so..." he almost whines. He bends over and kisses her nose then lays his forehead against hers. God knows she misses her friend as much as he seems to miss her but it's not him talking. John wouldn't be so daring and he would certainly not hit on her.

"I miss you too, John, but I don't think any of this is wise," she whispers back, trying to step away. He doesn't let her and sneaks an arm around her waist, forcing her to come flush with him. "I can feel your fear," he hums, his voice dropping an octave. "You should relax, sweetie. It's very enticing to see you afraid of what I might do to you..."

She breathes in and out, slowly, schooling herself, as she's learned with Teyla. She closes her eyes and thinks about other things, anything but her fear and his body pressed against hers.

He growls, frustrated, pushing her away, making her fall against a crate. "Why do you always, always have to be in control, damn you? Can't you let your hair down for once in your life !"

He closes the distance between them again and makes her stand then shakes her by the arms. She knows he's leaving deep bruises there. He does not seem to realize – or care – about what he's doing to her. "Your walls are so high, my lady, I doubt anyone will ever get through," he adds viciously, making her eyes well up with tears at the insult.

"Louise, this is Beckett," she hears in her headset. "Have you seen Sheppard?" It's a long shot because John and her are never, ever seen together these days and seem to have made it a hobby of avoiding each other as much as possible.

She gulps and reaches for her headset. Sheppard watches her and dares her to complete her gesture, a dangerous glim in his eyes, but seeing as her heart is wounded right now, she doesn't care. She defies him and taps the communicator. "He's right here, Doctor. Shall I ask him to get to the infirmary?" He glares at her but is gone before Beckett has the time to reply.

"Louise, I'm sending marines your way. They won't be a minute. Whatever happens, do not move." She crumples to the ground. "It's not necessary, Carson. He's gone."

She asks to go and see him when she learns he's been quarantined but Elizabeth refuses, having just come back from there herself. "He's not the man you used to know, Ms Léger," she informs her.

Louise hangs her head. "I know. He came to see me..."

"Beckett told me. You were lucky. He says his instincts are heightened and so are his feelings. Whatever he's kept hidden as a human being is being slowly revealed as he's turning into a..." she waves her hand, at a loss for words.

"Bloodsucker? Nightwalker?" Louise offers, her sarcasm the last rampart against her pain. Is that how she's going to have to remember him if he dies? "Ma'am," she pleads. "Let me help. Anything I can do for him, I will. He's always watched my back. It's time I repay him."

Elizabeth shakes her head in sadness. "I know you want to help but there's nothing you can do. He's alone on that one."

They never talk about it again. He makes amends to Teyla and Elizabeth but doesn't come to her. She doesn't even know if he remembers the incident.

All he knows is that now, when she passes him in a corridor, she steers away from him as if afraid he might still have it in him to hurt or kill her.

Of course, he remembers. The memory plagues him.

How could he possibly attack her and utter those shamed words – even if they're true, even if at the time he was running on instinct alone and had no control over his emotions? He just hopes she's been told it was not him there and she's forgiven him, though as he can see, she will probably never forget. He can't help thinking about the Beauty and the Beast – one of her favorite stories ever. How fitting to depict their relationship! She's tried hard to accept him and he's tried as hard to be accepted, but in the end, their friendship is like the chipped cup that was finally shattered into pieces – never to be mended. Little does he know she feels the exact same way, except for a slight twist. She thinks she was the one who chipped the cup. He only finished the job.

She has a sense of foreboding when they get a lead about a ZPM and Elizabeth decides it's worth the try, though Rodney voices his complaint this is probably another wild goose chase. She almost misses the information as she's yet again swamped with work while the chef is taking an umpteenth so-called sick leave. She asks to join them but is told by Elizabeth John has just agreed to take his flagship team with him and no one else. "His mission, his call," she tells her, not too happy Louise is being so insistent. "If you get his approval, I'll let you go but only then."

She hangs her head and ponders it, uncomfortable at the idea of asking for a favor. She finally goes to see him in the armory, only to be met with his cold rebuttal. "No way I'm taking a civilian on that mission. You're not trained for that," he says, avoiding her gaze, busying himself with his gear.

"Really?" she dares him to say otherwise after all the whumping she's gotten from him and Ronon.

He turns his back on her, arranging things in his locker. "Really! I won't have time to watch your back. Something might come up. I don't want you in the line of fire."

"Are you saying I'm a liability?" she challenges him.

"If you insist..."

 _It would almost be fun to watch_ , Ronon reflects as he witnesses their crossing of swords, _if only they were not so at odds._

"Oh yeah, right. But you're taking Rodney who'll whine all day and lag behind?" She's really pissed and she doesn't even know what she's doing here.

"Why is it so important for you to come this time, Louise?" Ronon asks her, butting in.

She looks at him and shudders, the feeling of impending doom creeping up her spine. "I don't know... I just... want to be there with you."

"Well, you can't and that's final." John won't humor her. Why would he? He keeps away from her as much as he can.

She relents, knowing that he's as stubborn as she is and she's not the one who's making the decisions here. "Just... Just be careful, OK?" she whispers, looking him straight in the eyes before leaving at a run.

"What was that about?" John wonders aloud, feeling suddenly uncomfortable.

"She's worried about you, dummy," Ronon shrugs. "And too proud to say it out loud, like someone else I know."

John bangs his locker door shut before stomping to the door.

TBC


	25. Chapter 25

_Chapter 24 – The end of the tunnel_

 _Spoiler for the Lost Boys and The Hive._

When they disappear and throughout the ordeal of first not knowing where they are and then believing there's a chance of a snowball in hell they might come back at all, lest uninjured, she works incessantly in the kitchen, barely resting, never leaving the perimeter of the mess hall and control room.

At one point, Elizabeth has to order her back to her quarters and post a guard at her door so she might at least relax in the shower and feel tempted to rest. She doesn't, feeling like a lion in a cage. The thoughts swirl in her head incessantly – remorse and regrets alike at what she could have said or done before it was seemingly too late.

She's worried sick for all of them but at least, she's at peace with the others. With John, it's a different matter. She's never told him what she must – that she's sorry she started the whole thing because she was too proud to confess to him her shortcomings and risk losing his respect. If she could go back... The thought becomes an obsession and gives her a terrible migraine. She pleads with Elizabeth to let her leave her quarters. Weir agrees, feeling no good will come out of it as it seems, but only on the condition she won't go back to work right away.

She dons on a train suit and running shoes and decides John's way of dealing with stress and worry is worth the try. He's tried countless times to lure her into coming with him on his morning run but she never took the time to humor him. Now it feels like it's the only thing that allows her to feel close to him. Her feet pounding the corridors, she finds her pace and falls into a trance, her obsessive thought setting the rhythm. _If I could go back, if I could go back, if I could..._

She runs to the west pier where she knows was their point of no return and sits there, nibbling at sugar cubes and a cookie to restore her blood sugar level before she can head back to her quarters and shower.

She then sits at her desk and opens the copybook that is already half full with her own recipes. She shakes her head. It's not right. It's not how she wants to tell her stories. Because each recipe is not merely a list of ingredients and instructions but a reminder of how important and unique each person she's met or will ever meet is to her – alive or dead, friends, families and foes alike.

 _Cooking is my way of connecting to people, if any. I'm not a brilliant scientist like Rodney, I don't save lives like Carson. I will never save the world like John. I don't know how to bring people to the negociation table and keep them there until they agree with my point of view, like Dr Weir. I've never felt useful in my whole life until when I started making people happy with what I fed them. I'm awkward in many ways – not the kind of person you want to meet, not the kind you see in a crowd. But when I cook, I connect to people. Food is not just sustenance, it's me telling them I love them – though not in so many words._

She takes a new copybook. A pretty one she has kept for a very long time. It's the exact copy of her grandmother's. She's always surmised her granny had bought two for the time she would finish the first one. She smiles fondly, caressing the leather-bound book then flips it open. "Seasoned with Love", she writes on the first page. That's what her life feels like, in spite of everything. That's what she hopes she'll one day be remembered for.

She sighs, seeing how uneven her letters are, not at all like her grandmother's. She shrugs, smiling. She'll be remembered for that too. So be it. The left-handed awkward penmanship is part of her too, after all. Her granny had fought her first-grade teacher on that, not letting her force the shy child she was then to write with her right hand because it was "more convenient for everyone".

"The child is left-handed. That's who she is. Do not dare try to change her into something she's not." The tone had been firm and final. Louise had been the only one in the school to be allowed to have it her way.

She owes so much to her granny. For teaching her simple things like ironing or sewing a button or cooking a decent meal. For reading her bedtime stories and telling her about her roots. For simply taking the time to play with her.

There are plenty of stories and recipes that suddenly come to mind, be they linked to her or not, but first, she takes the time to write a foreword about how it all started and her granny had saved her life by giving her the love of hard work and dedication – values that she'd remembered at a time when she was letting fate drag her down to the bottom of her despair, at a time when all that seemed to be of any worth was the thought that she didn't really care if she relapsed because there was nothing worth in her life saving.

There wasn't much she had packed in her two suitcases to New Brunswick except for the bare necessities, as she'd come to the point where objects were just that. She had loved having knicknacks at home but that was when. The pleasure of owning things, apart from books of course, had come and gone, but when she had looked around and gathered what she was going to take with her to her new life, she had packed the two copybooks without a moment's hesitation. It just made sense to take them, along with the photo now resting on her desk – the only reminder of times gone by.

"Like my grandmother before me," she writes, "there is no greater way for me but to tell people how much they mean to me, not through words, but through the food I make for them. Food was the way she would make everyone special, knowing what they liked. I still remember every first time she made me taste something new, the wondrous smell of her cakes as they cooled on the racks, the sight of the table, laden with food at birthdays and Christmases. She was the fairy of my childhood, her cooking as mysterious as magic spells. And no matter how many hours I now spend in the kitchen, I still believe cooking is magical."

Her communicator wakes her up with a start. "Ms Léger, this is the Control Room. Come in."

She blinks and rubs her eyes, taking in her surroundings. She's fallen asleep at her desk. "Yes, what is it?"

"Report to the Control Room. Chuck out."

The voice is hurried but the tone is light. Dare she hope to think they've returned? She's afraid of being misled so she just leaves at a run towards the nearest transporter, not taking the time to get more intel.

Ronon and Teyla are being taken to the infirmary as she arrives but they're on their feet so she knows they're gonna be OK. She waves at them and they wave back. Teyla looks at her intently then gives one last look towards where John is standing in the middle of the gate room, talking to Elizabeth. Louise hesitantly walks down the stairs, not knowing what to do. There are way too many people around them.

She remembers being told by Rodney how Elizabeth had not thought twice and hugged him tight in front of everyone after fearing he'd died, but that was Elizabeth. Even though he cannot confess it, probably not even to himself, she's close to his heart. Only she has the right to disclose such affection in public.

She stops in her tracks and wavers. She feels awkward. She obviously does not belong here, she tells herself, and decides to leave before things get very uncomfortable for them both.

That's when he looks up and sees her. A smile slowly spreads on his face, that smile he used to have for her when he would see her in the morning in the mess hall. He's sent so many contradictory signals to her recently – and truth be told, she has too – that she doesn't know what to expect anymore. But she is rooted to the spot, taking him all in, burning the sight of him alive and well into her memory.

Elizabeth elbows him with a smile. He opens his arms and waits, hoping she won't turn tail and rebuke him in front of everyone.

Her feet start walking again of their accord and she closes the distance at a run, only stopping when she's toe to toe with him. Elizabeth smiles and makes her exit quietly. They don't see her leaving, lost in each other's eyes. "I thought you were dead," she whispers, choking on her tears. She hates it when she gets emotional, especially around him, because he seems so cool after yet another brush with death.

"I'm not," he says matter-of-fact and shrugs. "Ain't you gonna give me a hug? Everyone's looking at us, you know, and I have a reputation, lady!" The sarcasm is only there to hide his emotions and by now she knows it. She humors him and slowly steps into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his middle. He wraps his around her shoulders and kisses the top of her head.

They stay like this for who knows how long. When they finally look around, the place is deserted except for Chuck who's discreetly manning the computers in the Control Room above. John smiles at her. "I think we've spaced out," he chuckles. She smiles too and remains quiet, too emotional to utter a word. "Ain't you going to talk to me? Lost your tongue? That would be a first!" He tickles her, seeing how sad she looks, making her jump and scoot back. "Come on, Louise! Say something."

She gulps. "Would I'm sorry do?" she offers.

He sighs. "Listen. I don't want to hear of it, OK, or I'll have to start apologizing too and it will take months. Can we agree that we were two fools who listened too much to their pride and not enough to their hearts and then be done with it? I don't want to lose time anymore, sweetie." He levels his gaze with hers, waiting. She nods and is rewarded with a kiss on her forehead. "Now, let's check on the rest of the team. I'm surprised Beckett hasn't called me yet to get my butt to his infirmary asap," he chuckles, knowing Elizabeth has probably told him to give them time to themselves before he reads him the riot act.

He folds his hand around her much smaller one and leads the way, not letting go even as they come across people and enter Beckett's realm.

Ronon and Teyla are still in hospital whites. Beckett is checking on them. Elizabeth gives John a smile as she sees him enter with Louise by his side. Louise flinches when they talk about Ford going MIA again. John holds onto her hand more tightly. "As I said, sweetie, I'm sure we'll hear from him again. The kid is pretty resilient," he tries to appease her fears. He knows it's a forbidden subject around her. She cringes every time someone mentions him and has stubbornly refused to bake the kid's favorite fruit pies ever since he's fled the City.

"Well, you know," Rodney butts in, "given the amount of enzyme he's taken, by the time we get our hands on some intel about him, he might already be dead. It's a pretty strong addiction he has. It'll end up killing him sooner than later."

Louise gasps and turns to him angrily. "You should be ashamed, Rodney. The kid is obviously under the influence of that thing. He just needs a chance at being found and treated. I'm sure Carson can help him get it out of his system for good. You've all been lucky. Let's hope the same for him."

Rodney looks ashamed seeing how sad she looks but plods on. "Yeah, well, that might not be as simple as advertised."

"I know it won't but he'll beat it if he's got enough incentive to live," she reasons.

"Yeah, because you're such an expert at addictions, right?" Rodney hates it when she does that, being the optimist, seeing the doughnut and not the hole, because he knows deep inside, she's deluding herself.

John gives him a warning look. "Louise is just trying to remain positive. Of course she doesn't know about addictions, with the exception of green tea and chocolate chip cookies," he banters, trying to lighten the mood.

She gives him a knowing look and laughs humorlessly.

"You, Louise?" he snorts. "Miss all work and no play? I don't imagine you having a wild youth!"

"You know so much about me, John, and yet, so little," she whispers.

Elizabeth sees something is coming and knowing the reserved little cook, that might not be meant for everyone yet. She claps her hands and looks around. "All right everyone. Get some rest, all of you and that means also you, Ms Léger, as we both know you've barely slept since these daredevils have been missing," she points out, making John know about the situation. "We'll see each other for debriefing at 17:00. That will be all." She discreetly motions for John to leave with Louise so he grabs her hand once more.

"Have fun, kids," he banters lightly, abandoning the rest of the team in the infirmary.

They walk in silence, both lost in their thoughts, both reveling in the touch of their hands joined and their friendship on the mend. "Do you mind if we drop by at my quarters? I'm bone tired and need a shower," he says.

She smiles, feeling at odds. "Go ahead. Have a shower. Rest. We'll talk later."

He stops and turns to her but doesn't let go of her hand, afraid she might once more retreat into her shell. "Oh, no, lady. I finally have you where I wanted you. You're not scurrying away!"

She shakes her head and smiles. "I know you're tired, that's all. Come to see me when you've rested. I'll be waiting for you."

"Promise?" He looks her in the eyes. She nods in agreement and bids him goodnight before relunctantly letting go of his hand and walking away, not to her quarters, as he surmises, but to the kitchens where she was supposed to start her shift ten minutes ago.

Buckley barks at her when she arrives. The prick knows exactly how and when to push her buttons. She's so tired she doesn't reply and simply sets to work, ignoring his snarky remarks. When she's done with the midday meal and hasn't heard from John yet, she decides to prepare him a special treat. Knowing his love for anything breakfasty, she opts for banana pancakes, adds a scoop of butter on top and a tiny pitcher of warmed maple syrup. She's prepared a fresh pot of coffee and adds a steaming mug to the tray that she carries to his quarters, ignoring the stare of her boss as she passes him on her way out.

He doesn't answer right away though it's already 3:30 p.m. and the meeting is due in an hour or so. The door finally whooshes open, revealing a very sleepy John with his hair in more disarray than usual.

"Sorry," he apologizes. "I slept in." She smiles at him fondly and offers him the tray, making him hum with pleasure. "I see you have not forgotten how much I like these." He sets the tray next to his bed and plops down back on it, offering her to sit in the armchair next to him.

"I thought you might like breakfast since it's the beginning of your day, after all," she apologizes.

"Hey. That was a great idea. No need to make amends all the time..." he chides her.

She remains silent and watches him as he sits cross-legged on his bed, the tray balanced on his lap, and eats his plateful of pancakes and downs his coffee in no time. He smiles at her and puts the tray back on the bedside table. "Much better! You know how to warm a man's heart and fill him with content," he banters, making her giggle.

She falls silent and endeavors to tear at one of the paper napkins she's taken from the tray.

"Hey, what is it?" he says, laying back on his bed, his hands under his head, feeling content with having her here by his side. He sees her discomfort but thinks it's just about spending time together after such a long time. "If it's Ford, I promise you I'll do everything I can to find him."

"I know you will, don't need to promise it." She looks intently at the shreds of napkin and puts them back on the tray. "Look, I should leave you to whatever you have to do," she says, standing.

 _Here goes_ , he thinks and stops her with a hand on her arm, making her sit back. "I know something's on your mind. I know you want to tell me something important. You've hinted at things back there in the infirmary and I let you off the hook because we both needed to rest, though from the dark circles I see under your eyes, I can tell only one of us did. We'll come to that later but right now, I'm all ears. I won't let you leave this room until you've spilled the beans, Louise." He turns to face her, his head propped on his hand and waits.

After that, the words just start flowing. Not all of them though. Not the whys, just the hows. She's not ready for the whole story yet.

At one point in her story, he props himself back up in his bed. She bends and helps him, adding a pillow behind his back, her hand supporting him. They both shiver at the touch. The awkwardness is gone now she's allowed him in, trusting him with more than her life. He thanks her with a smile and doesn't let her sit back in the chair, taking hold of her hands so she sits on the side of his bed and finishes her story there. In the end, John's recent brushes with death have done more than any therapy would have for any of them. Like the silver lining in the proverbial cloud.

"I was afraid I would lose your friendship and respect if you knew," she concludes. "I pushed you away so you wouldn't." She falls silent, waiting for him to decide of what may come next.

"Never," he replies, kissing her forehead. "I don't love easily, Léger, but when I do, I'm not fickle about it. What your story tells me is that you're even stronger than I thought." He smiles then looks into the distance, lost in his thoughts. "Do you ever..." he doesn't know how to put it without offending her.

"Think about allowing myself one little drink?" she finishes his sentence. "Oh yeah. Not often but it happens. When a certain friend of mine goes missing and is presumed dead, for instance..." she says, pouting, making him feel like wrapping his arms around her tightly to make the hurt go away.

He caresses her hand instead with his thumb because, honestly, if he starts, he doesn't know if he'll ever let her go. "So how do you cope with it then?"

She shrugs then laughs. "I do what makes me happy, John. I put my apron on and I cook till I drop. I open my grandmother's cookbook, pick a recipe and try making it over and over again until it's perfect. Or I experiment and write my own." He laughs too. He can picture her, head bent over whatever she's preparing, her mind so intent on what she's doing she slides into her own alternate universe.

"Are there other things that make you want to relapse?" he asks. He can't help her when he's not there but he can make sure someone will be. And when he is, well, he needs to know what to expect.

She ponders it. "My past. Nightmares from my old life," she answers honestly, praying to God he won't prod some more though because she sure is not ready to talk about that yet.

He nods quietly. "You know you can call me or drop by day and night whenever that happens if I'm around," he offers. He's hinted at it once, telling her they were almost neighbors but she's never come unannounced to his quarters before. She gives him a shy smile. He doesn't know if he's overstepped the boundaries. "I have nightmares too," he confesses, looking sheepish. She's always amazed at how fast he can go from confident to sheepish to even goofy sometimes.

"What do you do then? I guess you don't call Beckett, right?" she says, making him laugh humorlessly.

"Obviously not. The less medication, the better. I go running."

"In the middle of the night?"

"Yeah, sometimes. If I stay in bed, I can't stop thinking and I never get back to sleep."

"I went running this morning," she confesses.

He looks surprised. She's not the sports-minded kind. She complied with the training and he knows she exercises but it surprises him she would go running when she's always told him no. "You did, didn't you?" He rewards her with one of those blinding smiles of his. "That's my girl!" She blushes at the compliment. "Who went with you?" He's almost jealous of the one who's convinced her when he couldn't.

She shakes her head. "No one. I went on my own to the pier and back," she announces proudly, only to get a reproving look.

"Sweetie, that's so not a good idea! You don't go running alone. Safety first!" he chides her.

She pouts. "You do it all the time when Ronon is not there," she protests, offended.

"That's me and then there's you! I've got years of training. You don't. Plus you're diabetic and a woman." His words make sense, well, most of them, but she growls all the same.

"You're calling me fragile. I'm not!"

"I said diabetic and woman. Don't twist my words." He rolls his eyes.

"Same, same! John, I'm not weak. I might be breakable but so are you. Look at how many times you end up in the infirmary," she reminds him.

He pouts. "Louise, sweetie, stop it. I don't want to belittle you, just instill some sense in that thick head of yours," he says, tapping her forehead gently with his knuckle. "Promise me you won't go running around the city on your own and I promise to respect your decisions, if they're sound, that is," he adds, knowing how bullheaded she can get sometimes.

"I don't have a running partner. What if I say I keep my communicator at all times? Will that satisfy your majesty?" she teases him, tickling his side, making him squirm.

"Nope, my lady, but if you want a running partner, there's me, right here. Shall I remind you I offered countless times and you always rebuked me..." He acts hurt but she knows he's only mocking her.

"I won't be able to keep up," she counters.

"I'll train you," he offers.

She pouts. "John... I'm not sure you understand how useless I am. I'll only delay you."

He rolls his eyes. "I'm offering, silly. Why do you always find the need to belittle yourself?"

She knows that's something he hates. Hell, that's something that got her into trouble countless times. Another way of pushing people away, telling them you're not worth the time they're ready to spend with you.

"OK. Tell you what – we try it once and if we can't find our pace, we call it a day," she offers.

"Twice," he bargains, extending his hand for her to shake.

She laughs out loud, knowing he likes to have the upper hand in everything he does. "All right," she says, shaking his hand and is rewarded with a kiss on her hand.

"You won't regret it, my lady," he says, winking.

She doesn't counter him though she can still vividly remember the last time he trained her and the subsequent painful morning. She makes a mental note of being ready this time with painkillers and Beckett's miracle balm.

TBC


	26. Chapter 26

_Chapter 25 – Clam chowders and crab cakes_

 _Not spoiler, but hint at Grace under Pressure_

They've fallen into a pattern again, though a different one. Elizabeth notices how intimate they seem to be, not minding the looks of people on the City as they're often seen together.

She runs with him twice a week when nothing comes up to disrupt their day and still practices in the armory with him too, joining him whenever he schedules a session. He drops by almost every night for milk and cookies before taking a tray to Elizabeth's office and spending the rest of the evening there, working on the next day's schedule or simply enjoying a quiet moment together with a game of chess on her tablet. They've resumed their Friday nights to Ronon's delight. Teyla notices that John is always careful to find a balance between his friend and his boss, sitting between the two of them, sharing his attention equally.

If Buckley could only leave her be, life would be as perfect as it could get. But he doesn't. He's furious she and John have made peace and she has subsequently resumed her social life. He had taken her self-imposed solitude for granted, which was perfect because she then was at his beck and call, suffering in silence, and always at his disposal to replace him in the kitchen, only too happy to have it to herself.

Now though, she's told him no several times when he's wanted to make her stay overtime to suit his own lazy schedule. She also ignores his snarky remarks about John's presence in the kitchen area at night. He's even suggested once that the cameras might pick up something interesting when the two stay alone there after the kitchen has been cleaned and everyone has left for the night. She shrugs in disdain at his insinuations but is worried he might one day choose to act upon his words and report her to whoever is in charge back on Earth.

She doesn't tell anyone about it, especially not John. He would feel the need to defend her, which is the last thing she wants.

He hasn't told her why the cameras were there in the first place. He doesn't tell her they're monitoring Buckley and it infuriates him they haven't been able to catch him yet. All they have is his very lenient schedule while he demands everyone else's dedication, as well as his tendency to yell at his staff. Louise brushes the subject off every time he tries to make her spill the beans. Buckley knows she'll only report him if he crosses the line with the staff, which he doesn't. Yelling at one's staff is not unheard of in their line of business. Being nasty to them either. She's just very cautious with the workload he imposes on them.

John tells Elizabeth one day about his fear she might be caught in this vicious circle forever. "I can't catch him red-handed because she doesn't help me there, 'Lizabeth!" he growls indignantly. "Damn! Why doesn't she let me help her?"

She smiles at him and shakes her head. "You're not the only one who has pride, John Sheppard. I think she's much attached to fending for herself. You don't have to defend every woman's honor on base, Colonel," she teases him cheekily.

He pouts and shrugs. "Why? I don't mind."

She laughs. "I know. And I also know you care a lot about our cook."

He gazes at her, looking for the underlying meaning, if any. "Are you telling me I shouldn't, 'Lizabeth?"

She raises her hands in mock surrender but he sees the almost imperceptible tinge on her cheeks. "I'm not. You have the right to see whoever you want on base and off-world alike, and Ms Léger is not directly under your command."

"I thought we had already settled this, 'Lizabeth," he points out, frowning. "I don't have that kind of feelings for Louise."

"I thought that might have changed, given your recent change of attitude toward each other. You seem... closer, more intimate. Which is fine," she adds hurriedly, seeing him frown.

"If this is what you're suggesting, Dr Weir," he replies a little too curtly, "Louise and I are not friends with benefits!"

She blushes. She doesn't want him to think she's being nosy or worse, jealous. "It's not what I suggested, John. It's just I want you to know, should you two ever feel like being more than friends, you won't get a slap on the wrist from me."

He shakes his head. "And I want you to know," he counters, "it's not how we feel about each other. We both believe in friendship between men and women and don't see the point of exploring other ways. I do love her – very much so – and yes, if you want me to be completely honest about it, I think she is quite attractive but that's it. Look, this is very awkward. I'm not good at that kind of conversations and you're my boss."

She winces. "I'm your friend too, John. I was just trying to make things easier, should you wish to want more than what you have now."

He smiles tersly and stands, making a hasty retreat as he doesn't know how to get out of that one without saying too much. "Yes, I wish I could have more, 'Lizabeth... If circumstances were different but they're not."

He tells Louise about his conversation with Elizabeth, making her laugh out loud. "You and I? I mean, really? What put that in her head?" He shrugs but looks offended. She scoots closer on the bench and taking hold of his hand, wraps his arm around her neck, lacing her fingers with his. They're sitting outside on the mess hall balcony, enjoying the cool evening air. He chuckles. "Well, that, for example!"

She pushes him away playfully. "Well, honey, if you don't like my cuddling anymore, just say it!" she teases him.

He sneaks his arm back around her shoulders and kisses her temple. Ever since he's returned from that time dillation field, she's noticed how closer he allows himself to get. For her, it was only a few hours and she wasn't even aware of it, being cooped up in the kitchen. For him, it was months before he could go home. It seems he's making up for lost time. "I didn't say that. I just hope people around base won't question our friendship."

"John. If you're uncomfortable with any of this, just say so. I know it may be unsettling and a far cry from what I was when we first met but this is who I am when I feel comfortable enough with someone. I trust you with my honor, see!" she teases him, trying to lighten the mood.

He shakes his head. "Even here, I guess we cannot escape the pressure of society. But I want you to know I'm content with what we have and I certainly don't want this to change. We'll manage, somehow." They fall silent, trying to keep the nagging feeling at bay that whatever can go wrong will go wrong, and simply try to enjoy their time together.

"Hey, there was something I wanted to tell you about," she says after a few minutes.

"Hum, hum," he says, distracted. It's been a long day and sitting here next to her tends to lull him into a comfortable slumber, watching the whale-like monsters swim in the distance. They often come closer to the City at night, as if the lights were beckoning to them.

"You did mention the cloaks on the jumpers can be turned into shields underwater, right?" She seems suddenly quite perky.

"Yeah... Why?" he asks suspiciously, knowing when Louise has something on her mind, she won't get deterred by anything and will pester him until he relents and let her have her way. She's woman all right and knows how to use his sense of chivalry to get what she wants.

"Just asking..." she answers innocently and falls silent again.

"Spill the beans, Louise. I know something is on your mind. And I know how it works. You're going to talk about anything and everything and when we're ready to head back inside, you'll finally muster the courage to ask. And, that, sweetie, really pisses me off," he growls.

She pouts but relents. "All right! No need to be so snarky. Got up on the wrong foot this morning?"

He makes a face. "Louise..." he warns her.

"Right!" she huffs, trying to find an enticing way to put it. "OK, so, you know I went to see the guys from NUMA the other day..."

He rolls his eyes. If he lets her do it, she'll tell him the whole story. "Argh! Stop that. To the point!"

She pouts again and rolls her eyes too. "OK, to cut a long story short," she insists on the last word to make him understand it really aggravates her, "they say there's plenty of seafood on the ocean floor. Clams and crabs and other stuff. They think it's the kind of stuff that's edible..." she adds, conspiratorially.

"Yeah? And what does it have to do with my jumpers?!" She's leading him into a wild-goose chase once more. She's done that several times already, making him go off-world for food they don't need though he has to admit, it brings flavor and variety to their diet.

She gives him a toothy smile. "Well, they're down too deep to be fished with nets. We can't dive that far down below either. It would be too dangerous. But if you take me with the jumper and use the cloak, it will be a walk in the park!"

Boy, is he in trouble! "A walk in the ocean, more like it!" he sniggers. She snorts, seemingly enjoying his quip. "It's not funny, Louise!" he chides her. She pouts. "You're reckless, you know that?" She smiles again goofily this time and he can't help laughing. When her spirits are high, she looks like a kid who's ready to trick her parents.

She looks pleadingly at him. Two can play that game. He might be Captain Handsome and knows well how to use his puppy looks on her but she once told him she wouldn't let him do it to her without retaliating.

"In the end, though," Rodney is saying, waving his crab cake in Ronon's face as he's trying to make his point, "it's not really how she got John to agree to it. More like how Elizabeth gave them both the go-ahead."

Carson shakes his head. "I have a pretty good idea, Rodney. Actually, we all do," he says, tucking in his clam chowder with delight. "He used the same trick on Elizabeth as Louise probably used on him... Guilt and a lot of those puppy looks they're so adept at. I'm telling you – he's rubbing off on her and not in a good way. She's getting way too sneaky for our own good."

They all chuckle at that. None of them mind it when it brings quality food their way. Buckley, though, couldn't agree less but keeps his mouth shut for once as he passes their table. He scowls, pissed that once again he hasn't had that brilliant idea and has to hear the compliments she once again receives while he is left with the scraps.

TBC

 _Extract from Louise's Cookbook_

 _Crab Cakes_

 _I whittled this recipe from a guy who served them in a small restaurant in Pacifica in exchange for a few of my own tricks. When I dropped by at that restaurant that day, I got much more than I'd bargained for. This recipe has been a staple ever since._

 _For the aioli, you'll need:_

 _mayonnaise_

 _lemon juice_

 _cilantro_

 _garlic powder_

 _salt and pepper_

 _For the cakes:_

 _celery seeds or celery salk, diced_

 _onion or chives, chopped_

 _cilantro_

 _crab meat_

 _flour_

 _breadcrumbs_

 _one egg, beaten_

 _optional: lemon wedges_

 _Make the aioli._

 _Mix celery, onion, cilantro, crab meat, then add a part of the aioli. Scoop portions of the mixture in disks. Coat the cakes in flour, then egg and finally, breadcrumbs._

 _Cook in a pan with oil for 2 to 3 mn on each side._

 _Serve with aioli and lemon wedges._


	27. Chapter 27

_Chapter 26 – Madeleine_

She sees Teyla approach her with a smile plastered on her face that for once looks fake. Too bright, too toothy for Teyla, she reflects. Then she remembers. A soldier is walking cautiously by her side, taking in his surroundings. Carson dropped by yesterday, right before she was to start her preparations for the evening meal.

He does it a couple of times a week and likes it that she knows exactly what to offer him for tea. She always sets his table in a corner and chats with him as she and the preps start chopping and dicing. She knows he doesn't like to wait until later to have dinner. Dinner is not for him. Tea is more like it. She doesn't mind. His mother gave her enough recipes to last a lifetime and it's nice for a change to cook for one. Buckley is not there yet so it's kind of like the mouse is out to play. None of the cooks from his staff have ratted on her yet thankfully. They don't seem to care one way or another anyway. As long as she doesn't increase their workload, they're pretty blind to who she invites in the kitchen.

Usually, when Carson comes, he tries to put his worries away and only talk about lighter things. Yesterday, though, he seemed to be under a lot of strain. He's worked a lot lately. So much so she's thankful he still comes to have tea at all.

He's told her they're having a bit of a problem with one of the new soldiers on base. When he tells her his name, it doesn't register. "Sorry, no, but then there are so many new people around here... I'm pretty good with faces, not names," she apologizes.

"It's OK, love. Anyway, he's lost his memory in one of our missions against the Wraith..."

She shakes her head as she continues dicing the onions and bell peppers for tonight's taco salad. "Didn't even know we had one of those in the recent weeks... Must be spending too much time in the kitchen."

One of the preps sniggers: "Guess we all do. Didn't know that either," he says to the other prep next to him.

She rolls her eyes. "Ain't you ever been told by your mama it's impolite to eavesdrop on a conversation, lest butt in?" she chides him. She's having trouble with the preps these days. Even though she's the one who's mostly trained them, they got the hang of it very fast – she's not the boss here so time and again, they defy her authority or just slack off a bit. Nothing serious but it's really getting annoying. For someone who was used to being listened to and obeyed, their attitude is really trying her patience.

"So..." she turns to Carson, raising her eyebrows expectantly. "When do I meet him?"

He chuckles. "You're pretty insightful, you know. Actually, I discussed this with Dr Heightmeyer. She thinks if he can reconnect to things we all take for granted – like food – it would probably do him good."

"Want me to what? Give him cooking lessons?" she teases him.

He looks taken aback a bit. "Oh, no. Nothing of the sort. Right now, he's just going to go around base with an escort – someone from the team and a couple of marines, I'm afraid, as we don't know yet if he could be a threat to himself or others – and see if anything looks familiar. We just want you to make him eh, let's say, rediscover the pleasure of having a hearty meal." He looks sheepish as if he were hiding something but she can't put her finger to it.

"All right then. What's his name?"

"Kenmore. Lieutenant Michael Kenmore," he says, wincing.

"Is there something I should know?" Louise asks, seeing how uncomfortable her normally good-natured friend looks today.

"No. Just – you know – do what you normally do. Work your magic trick – find what he likes. If he feels happy around normal food, we'll consider the next step," he answers, standing, obviously not wanting to say too much.

"OK... I don't know what normal means but I'll do my best." Something is definitely off.

Teyla introduces him to her. He extends his hand cautiously, looking lost here. Some people are looking their way, but most ignore them. "Hi," she greets him with a smile. "I've been told you've suffered memory loss. I'm sorry about that. I know it can be difficult to adjust to an unknown environment. I can't do much for you but anything you'd like to have, I can cook it for you. I mean," she adds with a laugh, "as long as I've got it in store." She sees Teyla cringe. Teyla hardly ever cringes. What the hell is going on?

He thanks her, embarassed by the attention, but is at a loss when it comes to quoting his favorite dish. He doesn't even know if he prefers spicy or sweet, main courses or desserts. He shakes his head as she tries to bring up memories, quoting staples and children's favorites.

Seeing they won't get anywhere that way, she offers him a seat and goes to the buffet to sample a few dishes then sets them in front of him. He looks equally at a loss when being handed cutlery. She shakes her head in dismay and shows him how to use it, cutting his meat for him. She's gone for simple with a turkey breast in curry sauce and wild rice they've traded for. He hums in pleasure at the first taste then finishing his meal in no time.

"You're a quick learner. That's good," she remarks with a smile. Apparently he has a sweet tooth too. He asks for seconds, making her laugh. She motions for him to go and get his second white chocolate mousse himself. "At least, he hasn't lost his taste buds, which is a good thing. It will keep him from feeling despondent," she tells Teyla who agrees. "You know, I'm really sorry for him. If Dr Beckett doesn't mind, I could maybe invite him to come to the kitchen during my break and make him discover new tastes. That might ring a bell at some point," she offers.

Teyla nods and tells her she'll keep her informed as Michael returns to the table, grinning. Obviously food seems to be something he can connect to.

It takes a little while before he returns to see her. There's that whole hushed, secrecy thing around him that bothers her, especially when she talks to John and Rodney about it and they elude her questions. She's learnt that Ronon has attacked him and bawls him out the next time she sees him in the mess hall.

"You know nothing about that, Ms Léger, so mind your own business," he barks at her, earning himself a warning glance from John.

"I might not, seeing as everyone is trying very hard to keep things from me," she retorts curtly, her eyes like daggers, "but I do know one thing though. When you came here first, you were a stranger, lost in a new environment, and I welcomed you. How come he's not entitled to the same compassion from you? You of all people should know how it feels!"

He growls then prefers to leave. Fighting with Louise will achieve nothing. "Talk to her," he tells Sheppard, raising a menacing finger at him. "This has gone on for too long!"

She puts her hands on her hips and glares at John. "Talk to me about what?!" but he too makes a hasty retreat.

She goes to see Michael at his quarters when her shift ends. He's still not allowed to leave as he wants and she doesn't get permission from Elizabeth to enter his room, only talk to him at the door. She's come with a piece of chocolate cake with custard cream. Seeing as he liked the mousse, she guesses he's soon going to be addicted to anything chocolatey. Probably used to be before his accident, she tells him. He eats his dessert standing in the doorway and talks to her. Well, actually, it's more like he eats and she talks but it's a start.

"Well, I got to go," she says when she sees he's finished his plate.

"Must you?" he asks against all odds, tilting his head to the side, regarding her curiously.

"Why? Haven't you had enough of my insufferable twittering?" she banters, knowing how chatty she can get sometimes when she feels uneasy. She's tried to connect but nothing she's said seemed to trigger anything in him. His expression is blank as is probably his memory – a white page to be written on.

He finally gives her a tentative smile. "Everyone wants to know how I'm doing – all the time. It's pretty annoying. You're quite... refreshing."

She laughs out loud. "You're the first to tell me that about my tendency to talk too much! You're a keeper!" She sobers up. "Listen, I have to go but I'll get permission to come and see you again. Maybe accompany you on a walk around the City, I don't know. But I need to ask Dr Weir or Colonel Sheppard. They're in charge here."

"You know them well, don't you?" he asks, following her facial expressions.

She smiles. "Ah, well, Dr Weir, yes, a little. And Colonel Sheppard is my friend."

He looks pensive. "You seem to like him a lot. You mentioned him several times."

She grins. "So you were listening..."

He nods. She's seen that expression – subdued, thoughtful – in the Jaffa guy she's met at the SGC a couple of times. It's different from anything she's used to but in a sense it's – how does he put it? - refreshing!

She's finally gotten permission to have him tour the kitchen and storage area one night with John, Teyla and a couple of marines by their side. She doesn't understand why they still feel the need to monitor him so closely. She's taken a liking to him. Not that he's very outgoing but he's polite and always curious to learn new things, taste everything she picks for him and listen to her.

She's lent him a couple of books he's read in no time. She can't believe he hasn't read any of the classics she quotes for him. But one thing is for sure – he's a quick learner. He likes to discuss the books she lends him and is keenly interested in human relations.

She discusses it with Beckett, telling him how worried she is for him. "He's like a newborn, Carson. Not that we have to show him everything but it's like he's never encountered these things before. I'm no shrink but wouldn't it be wiser to send him back to his parents, see if something triggers a memory there?"

Carson looks away, embarassed. "Eh, love, I don't think this would be very wise. We still have to assess how he fares around people."

She huffs. "God, Carson, he's doing great! I don't see why you have to keep him cooped up all the time. It's not healthy. He feels like a prisoner, not a patient!"

"He told you that?" He looks surprised. Michael doesn't share his feelings that much with any of them, with the exception of Teyla, but that was before Ronon yelled at him for hitting her too hard during their sparring session.

"Not in so many words. Oh, come on, he's obviously lost and none of you seem to show genuine interest in him – except for him being a sort of lab rat for you and Dr Heightmeyer. He needs to connect, have friends... Am I the only one who is willing to spend time with him? I mean, why don't you ask the guys he came with to come and see him. I don't mind taking care of him but, really, I mean, if he spends too much time around me, he'll never get his memory back." She sighs seeing Carson is not ready to do anything about it.

"Love, I think you're doing very good with him. Right now, he might not need to remember the traumatic experience he's gone through. Right now, what he needs is to feel he belongs and he does with you, as it appears, so keep up the good work," he praises her before making a quick exit to head for a reunion he has with Elizabeth, he says.

She breathes out in exasperation. They're all very freakishly weird these days, ever since that new guy appeared on her doorstep actually. Come to think of it, it started a little earlier – late meetings to which she'd not been invited, hushed conversations in the mess hall, John looking distracted, Rodney not caring when it's her day-off and Buckley has to take over. Weird, definitely.

She sees him approach the kitchen after breakfast. It's quite late and most people have deserted the mess hall. Her prep cooks and herself are ready to leave for their well-earned mid-morning free time. One of them sniggers. "Hey, chef, your sweetheart is back!"

She rolls her eyes and lifts a menacing finger at him. "Get the hell out of here, Private, before I ground you on diswashing duty for the rest of the week."

"Can she do that?" he whispers to the guy next to him. The other one gives him a look. She's known for being kind but also tough if you get on her wrong side.

She smiles at Michael as he enters, a marine on each side. She sighs. "Come on, you guys. You know he's not going to do me any harm! Why don't you two help yourselves to a cup of coffee and a couple of muffins and then wait for him in the mess hall?" she offers.

They eye the tray of leftover apple cinnamon muffins still sitting on the island top. Their crust is glittering in the morning light from the brown sugar she's sprinkled on top before baking them. One of them shakes his head though he looks disappointed. "No, Ma'am, can't do. We're on duty."

"Well, then, can you at least give us some space?"

"It's OK, Ms Léger, I understand their concern. We can just sit here and they'll just stand near the doors," Michael reasons, looking sad. The constant surveillance is taking its toll on him. He too suspects something is definitely wrong but he still thinks he needs to play by the rules and show them he can be trusted around civilians.

The two marines settle at the door but do not relax their stance. She pouts. Trying to ignore them is becoming a hassle. "All right, Michael. Since you're here, would you like to help me prepare a little something?"

He looks up, brightening. "You mean like cooking with you?"

"Well, yeah, why not? You seem at a loss for activities and I know nothing better than cooking to make one forget their worries. Shall we?" She hands him an apron and dons hers.

"What shall we do? I have to tell you I don't remember ever cooking. I could watch you though..."

"Oh, no, that won't do. We need to keep your hands busy. You mentioned reading about those French butter cookies in one of my books. You were curious to learn what they are. Let's find out if you like them." She smiles at him and tells him what to get from the pantry and fridge – eggs, sugar, flour, salt, butter and a lemon. "See, easy peasy. Simple ingredients. I don't use vanilla extract because I don't find it natural but we'll use vanilla-flavored sugar instead," she says, grabbing a jam jar. She shows him the vanilla pods that are naturally flavoring the sugar. "When we're done, we'll just put some more in there for future use, OK?"

She shows him how to get the zest from the lemon. "Don't tell Dr McKay I put some in those," she tells him conspiratorially. "He eats them all the time and never gets sick. He's such a baby sometimes!"

"But as I gather you usually humor him. You seem to be pretty thoughtful with him though he's not always with you. Is that a personality trait or is it just because it's your job?" he asks as she shows him how to measure the dry ingredients.

She chuckles. "A little bit of both. I'm really fond of Dr McKay actually – shortcomings and all. You just need to take time to know him."

"I wouldn't mind but he doesn't seem to be interested in knowing me," he points out. It's funny, she reflects, how matter-of-fact he is about everything around him, taking things as they come, evaluating situations but not judging most of the time.

"Ah ah, do I hear some underlying sarcasm here, Lieutenant Kenmore?" she teases him.

He turns to her, still holding the measuring cup. He looks nonplussed. "You mentioned this the other day but I still don't grasp the meaning of it."

She shakes her head and smiles. "I guess not. You were just stating a fact. If you had meant that as an unpleasant remark to make fun of Dr McKay's inability to connect to most people, that would have been sarcasm."

He shakes his head too, looking thoughtful. "I guess it's going to take me a little more time to adjust to these subtleties."

"Ah, don't worry. You're not the only one to think human relations are a bitch," she says, thinking of Rodney but also John. "So anyway, madeleines it is," she says, pointing at one of the food processors. "You're allowed to use one of these."

He smiles at her, curious to see how it works. He looks very serious, too serious actually, as he pours the different ingredients in the bowl. On the spur of the moment she acts, not thinking, and throws a pinch of flour at him that hits him on the side of his face. He looks down at her not knowing what to do about it. She elaborates. "Some people find that amusing – to throw food at each other..." She sees his look of amazement and shakes her head. "Forget about it. It was just plain stupid. You're a grown up and..." She never finishes her sentence. She looks with amazement at the handful of flour that's just hit her straight on her chest.

He tilts his head and narrows his eyes. "You said it was fun..." he deadpans.

She snorts and is ready to retaliate when she hears John bark behind her. "What the hell is going on here?" She cringes. John is in a foul mood these days.

"Nuthing," she answers innocently as she turns to him with a toothy smile. "Nothing illegal, at least."

He doesn't like it at all when she goofs around. It happens more these days and don't get him wrong, he's happy she's happy but boy, is she annoying when she tries to wriggle out of it.

He ignores her and orders the two marines to get Michael to his quarters.

She glares at him, hands on her hips. "We're not finished here, FYI, Mister! He'll get back when we've finished baking the cookies. Period."

He glares back and walks to her nonchalantly but the glare belies his gait. "He will get back to his quarters when I say so, sweetie." He motions for the marines to get going, his gaze still intend on her, but she refuses to lose the staring match.

"Michael, I'm sorry," she says, not daring to look away, still hoping foolishly John will relent.

"It's perfectly fine, Ms Léger. Don't worry about me. Thank you for your company." His voice is strained though he still manages to remain civil and cool.

They leave and she is still refusing to budge, too pissed to admit she's lost that one.

"What was that all about?" she hisses when they're not within hearing distance anymore.

He combs his hands through his hair and huffs. "We need to talk." It's short enough that she knows there is something terribly wrong he's not told her.

"OK..." she drawls, folding her arms on her chest. "What gives?"

"Can we sit?" He usually knows how to talk to her but this is going to be difficult. She doesn't budge. He breathes out in frustration. "It's complicated..."

She raises her eyebrows expectantly and waits.

"How dare you do that to me, Mister "I need to know if you're hiding something from me"?" she yells at him after remaining exceptionally quiet during his whole explanation. He knew it didn't bode well to see her so collected. "You jerk! You let me befriend a freakin' Wraith? What were you thinking?" Before he has time to reply, she flies into a rage again. "And how dare you all do that – experiment on people without their consent? Do you realize how immoral that is?"

He snorts. "As for the idea of suggesting you spend time with him, I do agree it's certainly not my best move..." He sees her stare him down, her arms still folded on her chest in a defensive stance. "But for my defense, it was a collective decision, ya' know."

She gives him a disdainful smile. "Except for me, Colonel!"

He throws his hands up, aggravated. "Stop calling me that when you're not happy with what I did! I feel like I'm still ten and my father is giving me a dressing down for preferring skateboarding to polo!"

She sniggers. "Poor pretty, rich boy!" He glares at her. She has to admit, she's being a bitch but he deserves it for hiding the truth from her. "Point is, John, you said it yourself – we're supposed to trust each other because we're friends. And after all we've been through, you still lie to me when it's more convenient?! Bad choice, really, really bad choice!" She heads for the door then on second thoughts, turns back to him. "How am I supposed to "unlike" him now, John? This whole situation is going to give me nightmares, for sure. And I'm not even talking about how wrong all this is for all of us!" She glares at him one last time and stomps to the door, leaving the kitchen counter in a mess for probably the first time ever.

He comes by around midnight. She's already settled in bed but can't sleep.

She's pondering returning to the kitchen to make those madeleine cookies after all. They always warm her heart with fond memories of her aunt who had showed her how to make those. They were a staple at family reunions and a great source of fun for kids as they grew up when they realized she had the same name as the cookies she baked. She pictures the shell-like molds and smiles at the surprise she could prepare for Michael – wishing they could, like in Proust's book, trigger a fond memory of times gone by. She pouts. But of course, they can't. She'd hoped food would help him remember. That's why she'd told him about the cookies. Now she knows his memory as a human is just an empty shell. Food doesn't mean anything to him because he's simply never tasted it before.

John passes his hand over the sensor, making her know he's there, disrupting her wandering thoughts. She's a hundred percent certain it's him and doesn't even care to ask before letting him in. He, like herself, cannot sleep when something remains unsettled between them – not now, not after all the efforts they've made to connect. Her grandmother used to say "never get to bed angry or you might never get a chance to undo the things you've said or done". She told him once. He agreed and finally told her about his father and how they haven't talked to each other in years.

He pouts, not knowing where to start. Telling the truth and apologizing seems like a good start. "I'm sorry," he simply says. No puppy looks but she sees he really is sorry.

She sighs. "Apologies accepted. Go to bed, John. It's late and I'm tired too." No one is watching so he can drop the mask and show her how tired and worried he is.

He shrugs. "If that's what you want."

"Well, no. I mean, yeah. I'm definitely tired but if you wanna talk..." She doesn't know what to tell him that won't start another fight because she still doesn't understand what went through their thick heads to come up with such a screwed up plan. Now is not the time or place to voice out her protests.

He closes the distance between them. "Actually, I was more like going for a quiet moment together. No complains, no bickering, just two friends watching a movie together maybe..." he offers, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

She smiles. At least they're in synch on that. "Do I get to choose the movie?" she barters.

"Sure, as long as it's not a chick flick."

She snorts. "You wish! No war movie though." He nods, letting her win that one. "Capra?" she suggests and is rewarded with his trademark grin.

"That's my girl!" he says as the door closes behind him.

He leaves when she's fallen asleep on his shoulder for the second time and he's tucked her in, not bothering to wake her up, hoping she won't have another nightmare like the one that's just woken her up screaming in his arms. It's the first time he witnesses it. She never really talks about why she's so tired sometimes but now he can imagine why.

As he leaves the room he has an uncanny feeling and looks up and down the corridor but sees nothing, no one. Everything is quiet at that time of night, except for the ghosts that haunt his friend's dreams. Those, he realizes, are hard to ignore.

TBC

 _Extract from Louise's Cookbook_

 _This White Chocolate Mousse was the first dessert Michael ever tested and he asked for seconds._

 _For two people you need:_

 _2 ounces high-quality white chocolate, chopped_

 _one large egg_

 _1 tsp vanilla-flavored sugar_

 _1/3 cup heavy cream_

 _Melt the chocolate and whisk in the egg yolk then let stand until tepid._

 _Whisk the egg white with a pinch of salt until stiff._

 _Whip the heavy cream with the sugar until stiff._

 _Fold in the whipped cream in the chocolate preparation then add the whites._

 _Leave at least three hours in the fridge._

 _You can add raspeberries and white chocolat curls on top or a mint leaf for decoration._


	28. Chapter 28

_Chapter 27_

"This is pretty serious accusations, Mr Buckley. Do you have anything to prove what you're saying?"

He sneers disdainfully. "I thought it was quite obvious, Ma'am. The facts speak for themselves. You only need to put two and two together," he says, bordering on insolence, implying she had not bothered to do so.

She almost flies into a rage – almost. It wouldn't do any good, only bring more suspicions her way, and she needs to look impartial too if she wants to get John and Louise out of this mess.

"Mr Buckley, you don't understand. If you send this report to the big brass back on Earth, they're going to laugh at you. So I advise you strongly to have more than rumors, suspicions and a few amateurish photos you've yourself taken without asking for permission first, might I add," she retorts curtly as she flips through his so-called file. "As for accusing people, you must know everyone has the right to be told why and by whom he's being accused. So, I'm going to ask Colonel Sheppard and Ms Léger to come and join me here, separately, and see what they have to say."

"That's all I'm asking for, Ma'am, that's all I'm asking for!" He replies triumphantly. If they are summoned to Dr Weir's office, they're one step closer to being officially suspected and that's all he needs to get the show on the road.

"Colonel Sheppard, come in."

He taps his headset and replies, pouting at Louise. They've for once settled down at a table and are playing a game of checkers. He's winning. Bummer! "Yes, Ma'am. What can I do for you?" he replies gracefully.

The voice that answers him is strained. "Please report to my office, Colonel. Weir out."

He lifts his eyebrows at Louise and shrugs. "Guess we'll have to call that one a draw, though I was definitely going to kick your ass, chef!"

She tucks her tongue at him. "You wish!"

He stands, chuckling. "Sorry, sweetie, got to go. Rain check tonight after your shift?"

She nods with a smile when she hears Dr Weir's voice in her communicator. "Ms Léger, come in." She glances at John briefly who waits for her to tell him what's going on. "Yes, Ma'am?"

"Please report to my office immediately. Weir out." The voice is curt.

Louise gives John a worried look. "What's going on? I've been summoned too..."

He sighs and motions for her to follow him. "We'll find out soon enough, I guess."

John is ushered into Elizabeth's office while Louise is asked to wait. She sits next to the door but can't help glancing from time to time towards the office. John is standing at attention in front of Weir's desk, his hands behind his back. At one point, she hears him bark a very angry "What?" and is ordered to sit down. She sees the side of his face. It seems his skin looks suddenly ashen. Louise fidgets in her chair. She sees Chuck eye her from the Control Room. No matter how much she tries to school herself, she can't help watching Sheppard and Weir intently. Something is definitely very wrong there. She sees Elizabeth push a file towards John which he opens, flips through briefly and hands back to her. He looks disdainful and white with rage. She seems to be warning him, leaning towards him across the desk as if wanting to caution him against doing something stupid. Then the interview is finally over and John heads for the door.

"We have an agreement, Colonel, remember?" Elizabeth calls after him.

He nods curtly and doesn't stop at the door but as he passes Louise, she feels his hand briefly brush hers. He heads for the conference room and the doors close behind him. Whatever happened there, he's going to want to let out some steam before round two.

"Please, come in, Ms Léger," Elizabeth beckons her all business-like. "And close the door."

She does as told and waits in front of her leader's desk. Elizabeth is not her partner in pictionary at their Friday night sessions today. She's her boss and apparently a very worried one. "Ms Léger, have a seat," she says, smiling briefly at her.

"If you don't mind, Ma'am, I'd prefer to remain standing." She doesn't know if her legs are going to support her for long though, seeing as she feels the worry bubbling inside her to a dangerous level, a sense of foreboding settling in her stomach.

Elizabeth nods her agreement. "Ms Léger. It's so appear you and Colonel Sheppard are the subjects of very serious accusations. I've asked you two to come here separately first to inform you and ask you a few questions. I'll try to be honest with you so I hope you'll return the favor."

Louise gulps and nods quietly.

"Ms Léger," she continues, pushing towards her the same file she's seen John flip through, "Mr Buckley is accusing you both of having improper conduct that might very well endanger the City." Louise gasps. Elizabeth lifts her hand. "Please, let me finish. He contends you've befriended a Wraith and has made an extended list of facts he reproaches you with, both in and out of the kitchen. As you can see, he must have worked on it from the start as there are entries to his "journal" from day one. He has also requested to add the videos from the kitchen and storage area to his report to prove his point – namely that you come and go as you like and allow too many people to roam around freely in that section of the City at any time of day or night. He's also made a list of things he reproaches you with as an under-cook, but we won't talk about that now because the point is, they're the least of our worries."

Louise turns the pages, barely seeing them but gasps again when she sees the photos. "Those," she points at them, pushing them towards Elizabeth, "must have been taken last night. Why?" she cries out in indignation. "Why would he stalk us? It doesn't make any sense!"

Elizabeth sighs. "Because he needed leverage and he's found it, I guess." Louise looks nonplussed so Elizabeth elaborates. "He's accusing you of having too much influence on Colonel Sheppard, which he contends could lead to a security breach."

Louise shakes her head. "What? But I don't see how I could have too much influence on a friend."

"Unfortunately, it's not what Mr Buckley says you are. And he's using those photos to make his point." Elizabeth looks sorry for her but most of all, helpless.

"Ma'am, are you telling us we might get under the scrutiny of the IOA for that?"

Elizabeth pouts. "If his report makes it back to Earth, yes."

"Are you going to let him do that?" Louise demands, dumbfounded.

"I might not have the choice, Louise. Look," she adds, seeing Louise waver on her feet. "why don't you sit down?"

"This is a nightmare," she says, dropping rather than sitting onto the chair. "This can't be happening. I've done everything he asked me – everything. God, he trampled on me time and again and I let him have his way so he would leave me be."

Elizabeth winces. "You should never have done that Ms Léger. Never. Why didn't you come to me? Or John?"

She shakes her head. "And let him know you knew, when he had specified I shouldn't talk about it to anyone? Now, come on, Ma'am. Why jeopardize everything I worked for for a little pride?"

"Because as you can now see, Louise, it was not enough. I'm sorry but you're going to have to find a line of defense against him and answer his accusations with the plain truth because he won't let go until he's won or lost the game."

"Why is he doing that to me? The guy is imcompetent. He won't last a week." The thoughts are swirling in her head, not making any sense.

"Because he must gather now you've trained everyone, replenished the stocks, gotten the trading part on cruise control, the thing can run smoothly without even him at the helm."

"Ma'am, it's complicated to explain to someone who's never worked in a kitchen but it's not as simple. He needs someone to do the job if he doesn't do it himself – someone who'll keep everyone busy, someone who'll mind the stock sensibly, not just tick boxes," she reasons, more for herself than for Elizabeth's sake.

"I know, Louise. He thinks Privates Wilson and Ridgeway can do it. He's asked for them to be promoted to the rank of under-cooks."

She shakes her head in disbelief and disgust. Not that it's Wilson's or Ridgeway's fault. They probably have nothing to do with that. They hate it being in charge when she's on leave. Say it's too much work and too much worry. But accusing her and John just to get rid of her? That's even below what she'd thought him capable of.

"Ms Léger, now, we're going to join John and Mr Buckley in the conference room. I've asked two witnesses to come as well, beside a secretary. Everything that is said in that room will be recorded and sent to the IOA. I advise you strongly against masking the truth or not answering. Direct answers. Keep it clear and simple even as to the whys of those photos. I'm sure nothing inappropriate will be found on the videos from the kitchen and storage area but the photos suggest things you two might want to come clean about." Elizabeth looks embarassed as she motions for Louise to follow her.

"Ma'am, I assure you..."

Elizabeth cuts her in. "As did Colonel Sheppard, yes. It's not me you want to convince. If I could, I would be on your side. Circumstances are, I need to remain impartial."

"Mr Buckley," Elizabeth greets him tersly. "Have a seat." John narrows his eyes at him as the guy walks into the room. He avoids eye contact and plops down in the chair beside Louise, making her flinch. "Not there," Elizabeth orders him. "Take a seat opposite Colonel Sheppard and Ms Léger. I need you to be facing the people you're accusing of such great offense when you're going to repeat everything you've written in that file."

He complies but looks nonplussed. "I don't get it. I thought you'd be the one conducting the interviews. I don't see what I'm doing here actually."

"You, Sir," John says through clenched teeth, "are going to have to look me and Louise in the eye as you repeat each and every one of your fat lies. Because don't get me wrong. When I'm done with you, you'll regret ever thinking you could come up with such accusations."

"Now, now, John," Elizabeth warns him. "No threats!"

"Oh, no, Ma'am, it's no threat at all..." he says, sneering, letting the meaning of it hang in there between them.

She clears her throat and begins, nodding at the secretary who switches on the recording device on his tablet and gets ready to make notes as well. "Let us begin, shall we? For the record, we are here today to determine the circumstances leading to grave accusations of treason against Ms Léger, the current under-cook to this expedition and thus Colonel John Sheppard, the City's 2IC..."

She insists on the word "treason" and Buckley's head snaps up. "Ma'am, if I may..." She nods. "Since I'm the one making the accusations here, I have to correct your previous statement. I have never accused Colonel Sheppard of anything except being too lenient to Ms Léger and maybe being under her influence. It's only Ms Léger I suspect of not being a trust-worthy element on this base."

Elizabeth's eyebrows shoot to her hairline. "It's either one or the other! You can't have it both ways. Either Ms Léger has a harmful influence on Colonel Sheppard and in that case they're both eligible for the IOA's scrutiny or she doesn't, in which case you can only accuse her of having questionable behavior towards the Wraith we call Michael and being inefficient at work, as I have gathered from your "journal"," she points out, reclining in her chair and joining her hands together.

It's a gesture John knows quite well by now. She does it every time she starts a negociation and knows she has a fair chance of winning. He smirks. He wants to wink at Louise, reassure her somehow, but it would not be wise. They need to be strictly professional for the moment.

"Which one is it, then?" she insists, seeing Buckley scowl.

He huffs. "The second," he mumbles.

"I'm sorry, Mr Buckley. Can you repeat that louder, please? I don't think the microphone has picked your answer," she tells him with a smirk.

He leans towards the tablet. "I said I'm not accusing Colonel Sheppard of being under the harmful influence of Ms Léger. But I still think she shouldn't be friends with him," he adds hurriedly and gets a reproving look from Elizabeth.

"What you think is of no interest to the IOA, Mr Buckley. I gather they have other fish to fry but listen to anyone rambling on who is acceptable as a friend for our 2IC. We're not in the playground, here," she adds nastily.

He's fuming but knows he has no choice but to suck it up. "Very well, Ma'am. Still, I believe the IOA needs to be told about the questionable relationship between my under-cook and that Wraith! I'm sure they'll be very interested to know he was allowed through her to roam almost freely around the City, collecting data about our base!"

John sits straight, glaring at him. "Now, wait a minute! She never allowed for that to happen because she has no power over military decisions as you've just agreed! Besides," he adds, glancing at Elizabeth to make sure he's not overstepping the boundaries, speaking before her. She smiles briefly, letting him know it's OK. "You seem to forget a little too rapidly this was part of the plan all along. Louise – I mean Ms Léger – had no idea at the time he was Wraith. She was asked to help a seemingly amnesiac soldier recover his memory. Dr Beckett and Dr Heightmeyer discussed it beforehand with Dr Weir, as the files we've sent to Homeworld Security will show."

Louise breathes in, then out slowly. She can't believe the nerve of the guy.

"Well, yes, but she voiced out her disapproval about the project. And she was very vocal about it, if I well remember," Buckley plods on, feeling he's on slippery ground. It's not going as well as he had anticipated. He's already had to lose one battle – one he was determined to win because of the anger that bubbles up inside of him every time he sees Sheppard and Louise together. He needs her lonely, not pampered by no less than Captain Kirk himself.

"That too is none of your concern. We, in the City, have rights and one of them is the most important ever granted upon Man – our freedom of speech. She never jeopardized the project by saying so – only gave her opinion, as she's allowed to." Elizabeth's tone is final.

Buckley breathes in and out, trying to keep his anger at bay. This is not going well at all! "Well, Ma'am, in that case, let's talk about Ms Léger's attitude. As the IOA will probably be interested to learn," he says, leaning again towards the microphone, "I have listed quite a few unacceptable behaviorable patterns that I contend are not in keeping with this base's strict protocol of obedience and respect to one's superiors as well as a demanding enforcement of such rules towards one's subordinates. The list of Ms Léger's infringements of these rules is endless. She has repeatedly challenged my authority, in front of our subordinates, might I add, and in return, let them become lazy and disrespectful towards herself and I as well. This is unacceptable, not only in my line of business but also and above all in a military contingent." He smiles at Louise sweetly and falls silent, knowing he's struck a nerve there and won half of the battle, finally.

Louise rakes her mind for any incident that might lean towards what he's accusing her of. She's clueless and feels the situation is slipping away from them. "You're twisting the truth," she says meekly, not wanting to give away too much in front of John who might go berseck if he learns Buckley is the one who's too lenient with the staff and disrespectful to her.

Elizabeth sees she won't defend herself and decides to put an end to the meeting, knowing they've reached a dead end. ""Do you have anything to add, Mr Buckley?"

"I think I've made my point, don't you think?" he replies smugly.

"Yes, you have. Do you wish to keep the videos and photos on the file before I send them along with the interview? Because I wouldn't want you to be asked embarassing questions as to the whys and hows..." she asks innocently and sees John snigger silently from the corner of her eye. Louise cringes at the thought of said photos. What will the IOA think of John if they see them?

Buckley thinks about it but then, to everyone's relief, shakes his head.

Once again, Elizabeth makes sure the IOA hears the answer. "No, Ma'am. I think they won't be useful to bring light to the matter at hand."

"All right, then, meeting's adjourned." She nods her thanks to the secretary as well as Chuck and another tech who've served as witnesses. "I will send you all the transcript from this interview. Kindly review it and sign it. I'll need to send it to the SGC asap. Mr Buckley, you're dismissed. Ms Léger and Colonel Sheppard, a word before you go..." John and Louise sit back in their chairs, wincing. They're both drained and only need to get the hell out of there – John to vent off his anger and Louise to hole up in her quarters and cry. "Oh, and Mr Buckley, since you think your under-cook is not up to her task, I think you won't find fault in her taking a leave of absence for a few days. I briefly went through the logs after you left my office and have noticed she, as well as Privates Wilson and Ridgeway, have worked double-shifts these last few weeks on more than one occasion. They've earned to have several days off."

Buckley blanches. "But I need them here, Ma'am. How am I suppose to fare if you remove all essential personnel from my staff?"

Elizabeth plods on, unforgiving. "But I'm sure you'll manage somehow. Ms Léger used to on her own and never complained about it..."

"Very well," he says through clenched teeth and glares at Louise before leaving.

John sniggers but Louise can't help the shudder from creeping up her spine. The situation has gone from frustrating and humiliating to downright nightmarish. "Well done, Elizabeth," John rewards his boss and friend with his trademark grin.

Louise doesn't contradict him but asks to be allowed to leave. "I'm not done yet, Ms Léger," Elizabeth tells her, looking her straight in the eye. She looks annoyed. "I asked you to stay for two reasons, the first one being that I need to make things clear for you. It is my belief that your inability to draw the line with Mr Buckley or come to us when we could have done something has led to this disastrous situation. We're already under the scrutiny of Homeworld Security and the IOA. Some of our decisions are regularly being questioned and John and I both know it'll be difficult in the near future to find a balance with those who make the decisions back on Earth but have no clue as to what's going on here. Your attitude towards your superior is really not helping," she chides her. John opens his mouth to voice out his disapproval at the way Elizabeth is treating Louise. She silences him with a glare. "I'm not finished, John. There is a huge difference, Ms Léger, between being compassionate and patient and letting others trample you and the second choice is clearly not the right one. You will not get anything from being bullied except more bullying. If you don't learn how to behave around both your subordinates and superiors alike, I might have no choice but to remove you from active duty. Is that clear?"

Louise fights back the tears. Dr Weir is showing her a side of herself she would gladly not encounter twice. She understands better why she was chosen of all people to lead the expedition. She's not military but she's a born leader. Louise hangs her head. "Yes, Ma'am."

Elizabeth smiles at her and approaches her. She rubs her arm affectionately. "There, there, Louise. Don't cry. It needed to be said."

John growls. "You could have said it differently."

She turns to him ans stares him down. "And she would not have listened to a word I would have said. Thanks but no thanks. I think Louise now knows where I stand and will act accordingly." Louise nods and breathes out. "But it won't be that simple, Ma'am. Now, they're all used to me being what I am." She winces knowing Elizabeth has set an impossible task for her.

"Not if I teach them a lesson they won't forget. I'm sorry to say things are gonna get hectic in the mess hall for a while. People might not get the food they take for granted or eat on time and I'm sorry about that. But when I'm done with Buckley and his unruly staff, they'll come crawling at your feet, Louise." Elizabeth looks smugly at John, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"I see... So you're ordering them to take a few days off so Buckley realizes his mistake..." He smirks then sobers up. "Boy, I'm gonna have to live on power bars!" He pouts. "And Rodney... I don't want to be there when he learns about it."

Elizabeth smirks. "Exactly! But as for you, John, you won't be there. I'll call you back if something comes up but for now, you're flying Ms Léger and Privates Wilson and Ridgeway to the mainland. And staying there, I might add." She looks very pleased with her plan.

Louise looks at her dumbfounded. "Why do you want me to go to the mainland? I already brought supplies to them with Dr Beckett not a week ago."

"I know Ms Léger. But the logs will testify to the need of the Athosians to get extra help from Atlantis in rebuilding shelters and stocking up food before they can fend for themselves after harvest time. And you, your faithful cooks and Colonel Sheppard will do just that. Now dismissed. I need you to inform your team and gear up."

TBC


	29. Chapter 29

_Chapter 28_

 _As always, I hope there won't be mistakes I overlooked and thanks a bunch for the reviews. They always make my day._

She comes back to Atlantis a couple of weeks later. She's heard of Michael's presence in the City and begs Elizabeth to return. Things do not pan out the way she'd expected and all she sees is John leaving for the Daedalus. He's got that intense look on his face and his eyes have gone from hazel to dark. He registers her presence at the last minute, walks to her to give her a hug and tell her not to worry. As if she could! Rodney is all wound up, leaving for the hive ship so he doesn't even see her. After that, things go from bad to worse. John's F-302 is believed missing as is McKay who was on the hive ship.

Buckley has ordered Ridgeway and Wilson back in the kitchen as soon as they'd set foot back on the City so she's left to her own ways. She can hardly return to the kitchen and cook since Dr Weir has ordered her to stand down for the time being though she knows this can't last forever. It's in the middle of that crisis that Elizabeth receives the order to meet the IOA back on Earth and bring her cook with her.

She joins Elizabeth in the gate room with a small bag containing everything she cherishes the most, fearing she might never return. She's left letters for each member of the team at their quarters.

Her evaluation is scheduled after Elizabeth's.

She's escorted to a room void of any furniture except for a couple of chairs and a table and not allowed to visit with anyone on base. Her belongings have been confiscated – for security check, she's told – and she feels like a prisoner. After several hours of doing absolutely nothing, she's on tenterhooks. She usually works from the moment she wakes up to bedtime and when she doesn't, she's always got something planned. This is what she is. Not doing anything is getting her nuts.

Someone finally knocks and opens the door. Broad shoulders, blue eyes and one of the kindest smiles she's ever seen. She jumps to her feet. "Dr Jackson," she greets him with a broad smile.

He walks to her as the door is closed behind him by a stern-looking guard.

"Louise. It's good to see you again, though not in the best of circumstances." He gives her a one-armed hug and motions for her to sit down at the table. They both do. He rests his forearms in front of him and watches her.

"You're part of the evaluation committee?" she asks hopefully.

He shakes his head, laughing. "No, I was in the area. Thought I'd drop by to see how you were doing..." he says.

She scoffs. "Not that good, Daniel. As you might have heard, problems are piling up."

He nods. "You can tell me on the way. I'm here to escort you to the conference room. It's quite a long walk. We'll have time to talk," he adds, pointing discreetly with his head towards the corner of the room, indicating she's being spied on.

She remains silent and follows him outside. The guard motions for them to go ahead and follows them at a safe distance, which allows them to converse quietly. "Jack forwarded me the file sent to him by Buckley," he tells her.

She looks surprised. "I didn't think General O'Neill would have time for such petty issues – nor yourself for that matter," she remarks.

"We like to keep an eye on our protégés." He winks at her. "Jack couldn't be here today but he asked me to come and take care of you – make sure you were not roughened up by the IOA... or you didn't roughen them up in return!" he teases her. He knows she's got quite a personality.

She flushes with embarassment. "I'm sorry you have to do this, Daniel. I never meant to annoy anyone. Trouble kind of seems to find me wherever I go..."

"That's what I wanted to warn you about. Don't let it get to you. They're gonna ask you some pretty embarassing questions in there and no one will be there to support you. You're gonna have to do it on your own." They've reached the conference room. "I know this is not the best time for you. I know you're worried about McKay and Sheppard."

She flinches. She does have her mind on other matters. "Have you heard anything yet, Daniel?" she asks hopefully.

He shakes his head and pouts. "Sorry to disappoint you, Louise. If I were you, I'd keep my hopes high, though. John Sheppard is like cats. He always knows how to fall back on his feet. I'm sure they're gonna be fine. Right now, you need to focus on your position in Atlantis. Answer their questions plain and simple. If bad comes to worse and they ask you to fill in the blanks in your file, Jack advises you to do it." He looks into her eyes to make sure she's gotten the whole meaning of it.

She nods slowly, knowing she might not be able to do it. The nightmares and guilt are quite enough. The last thing she needs is to have people she doesn't know and who do not care one bit about her judge her for who she was.

"Ms Léger, thank you for joining us," the man on the right tells her. "Please, sit," he adds curtly.

She does, sitting on the edge of her chair. She remarks silently that they have given her one that is slightly lower than theirs and it reminds her of her former headmaster. Sneaky technique to make you feel inferior. They haven't introduced themselves either so she doesn't know who's talking to her.

She waits patiently as they make a show of reading files in front of them. "Ms Léger," the same man finally says. "We imagine you know why you're here..."

They're baiting her to see if she can let on more than she already has at the conference with Buckley and Weir, she surmises. "I guess it's because of Mr Buckley's report..."

"What are you expecting our decision to be, Ms Léger?" They all look very smug. The butterflies in her stomach grow to epic proportions. She gulps but remains silent. They insist. "You're very difficult to assess, Ms Léger. We have here the list of items you brought with you." Her hopes drop to zilch. Her bag says she feels she won't be found innocent and will never return to Atlantis. Everything she really cares about is in there.

"I..." she decides to follow General O'Neill's advice and lay her cards on the table. "I was told being called to a meeting with the IOA meant most of the time you were demoted immediately."

"So you think we'll not let Dr Weir return to Atlantis?" one of the women sniggers.

She scowls. "I hope not. It would be a damn mistake if you did!"

They all have a smile. "That's what we thought, Ms Léger. You're finally showing your true personality. See, it wasn't so difficult... Now, let's be clear. We called you here because we wanted to know you – see if the portrait Mr Buckley has drawn of you is correct."

She shakes her head. "What do you want me to tell you? Accuse my superior of lying and get a slap on the wrist for it? Well, I won't! And you know what? I couldn't care less about what you decide because right now, I'm worried sick for our people," she says angrily.

The first man smiles sweetly. "You care a lot about Colonel Sheppard, don't you, Ms Léger?"

She scowls. "And about all the members of the team as well, yes."

"Mr Buckley contends otherwise..."

"Really?"She loses her temper. "And what if I did? What would be so wrong with that? Have we not already established in the preliminary interview this was totally irrelevant?"

"And we have as well. Actually, we're rather pleased to see you have connected to quite a few people in the City. It was rather our concern you seemed so apart at first. As for Colonel Sheppard, we can assure you we are well aware you two can only be friends, seeing his reputation..." She lifts her eyebrows. "It's no secret he likes them alien, tall and preferably much younger than you are..." he adds, making a show of flipping through the file in front of him, not looking at her. She turns beet red and tears of frustration and shame well up in her eyes. The two men snigger while the two women in front of her smirk.

She schools herself not to fly into a rage. Most people including Rodney have no idea who John is and more than the insinuation that he would never be interested in her, it's that which angers her the most. "Sure," she says with a fake smile. "Are we done yet or are you going to feel the need to humiliate me further?"

"Actually, Ms Léger, we have a few more things to settle. For one, we'd like to make one thing clear. We do not trust Mr Buckley any more than you do but we have no choice but to keep him on the job – at least for the moment."

She lifts an eyebrow. He covers the microphone with his hand and leans towards her. "Off the record, Ms Léger, Mr Buckley's uncle is quite powerful. We do not want to cross him while he rules the show on the SASC."

He removes his hand and sits straight. "In the light of the recent events with your superior, Ms Léger, we have a recommendation." She nods, not knowing what to make of this sudden and unexpected development. "We believe your refusal to stand up to your superior is partly responsible for your precarious situation. If we let you return to Atlantis, you will have to act upon it and not let him bully you. We have the intention to send Mr Woolsey to assess the situation there. He'll inform us about your change of behavior or lack of it thereof. If so, you'll be ordered back to Earth."

Her hopes return if only flimsy. "But we have one more condition if you intend to remain on Atlantis..." They let it hang in there. She watches them one after the other, waiting for the other shoe to drop. "You will fill in the gaps of your past for us."

She gasps and stands abruptly, knocking the chair down. "I already told my story once and was allowed to keep it off my file. It's not relevant to my job on base."

"On the contrary, Ms Léger. We are weary of people who might be a threat to the expedition."

She snorts disdainfully. "Have I not proven my valor until now? Have I not taken good care of the people on our expedition? Helped with the missions? Killed a Wraith?" Her fists are clenched at her sides.

They watch her carefully but do not answer. She has no choice so she motions impatiently for them to hand her the file and a pen. She grabs the chair and sits. She starts writing, her hand holding the pen tightly, her rage barely contained. She slides it back to them after a few minutes having given all the information they wanted – her former job, her marital status, the names of her parents, her real name... Everything. "Here," she says through clenched teeth. "Now, can I go?" They browse the file and nod. She holds her head high and leaves the room, feeling utterly humiliated. Now everyone will know who she really is and what she's tried so hard to hide.

Daniel is waiting for her outside. His smile is so bright she cannot remained upset. He tells her Major Lawrence is waiting for her in the commissary for a well-earned meal.

Said Major wraps his hands around hers and welcomes her, offering her and Daniel to sit and have lunch with him before service is in full swing. She pushes her food around as she listens to them more than she participates in the conversation. Major Lawrence takes pity on her. "I asked to be informed if they hear from Colonel Sheppard." She nods in agreement and resumes her woolgathering. He chuckles. "Ms Léger, I think I know what you need. Follow me," he says, winking at Daniel.

He ushers her in the kitchen she knows so well, having trained there before leaving for Atlantis. "Now, young lady, what would you like to help us with? We've got our hands full and could use some extra help..." She knows he's baiting her. Things seem to be pretty much covered but she doesn't mind keeping her hands and mind busy. She dons an apron and sets to work. They're making Salisbury steak today. She could make it in her sleep, having learned its recipe the first day she'd been welcomed in this same kitchen. She grounds the beef then adds chopped and fried onions, eggs, breadcrumbs and various spices then prepares the gravy and mashed potatoes. It's really not what she prefers but men around base as well as on Atlantis are partial to it so she's learned to make it right with quality ingredients.

Daniel peeks in and smiles, seeing her relax finally. He waits for her to finish, seeing how focused she is then walks to her and nods with a toothy grin, making her yelp. Major Lawrence grins and motions for her to go ahead. "It was a pleasure seeing you again, Ms Léger. Give my regards to Doctor McKay and Colonel Sheppard."

She's already running towards the exit but skids to a halt and gives him a hug before leaving at a run.

He shakes his head and chuckles. "Atlantis has done wonders to her wounded soul."

Woolsey joins her on her way back. She feels uneasy around him, knowing he's there to spy on them – on her too. But when she sets foot on the City again, all she thinks about is seeing her friends, not caring to make small talk or ask how he expects to evaluate her. She just makes a mental note of complying with the IOA's orders. Now she's back and her friends are safe, she commits to doing anything in her power to stay. She might have put on a brave front when challenged by the delegates but it was all show off. She belongs right here and nowhere else.

TBC


	30. Chapter 30

_Chapter 29 – Woolsey_

 _We've reached the beginning of season 3. Sorry for forgetting to mention it in the previous chapter._

Woolsey has finally left, letting both herself and Elizabeth know they can stay in the City – for now. With that man, it seems there's always a but. He's waited until almost the last minute to come and see her. She knew he was scheduled to leave any time soon and had not seen the likes of him ever since he'd stepped through the stargate. She knew he had gone round the City, making people squirm wherever he went – even Colonel Caldwell. She used to despise the guy for wanting to lay his hands on Elizabeth's job but he's redeemed himself recently, siding with the leader of Atlantis.

 _He's been told about her run in with the IOA and has dropped by during evening service to compliment her on her cooking and tell her he's sorry she'd had to go through all this. It's something they have in common – their distrust and spite for the delegates. They chat a little while she cleans tables. He offers her to join him for a game of chess and coffee. She confesses she doesn't know how to play and he offers to teach her the basics. They have a good time – considering. He's difficult to place – both authoritative and seemingly very kind. He mentions seeing her at the SGC, back when she was training. He confesses she looked so shy he'd never dared talk to her. She laughs at that. She's indeed a far cry from who she was then._

 _She sees Elizabeth observe them from afar as she sits with the flagship team. It's not often she sees Elizabeth intermingle with the people on base. They badly need to reconnect though, after everything that's happened. Caldwell sees her glance towards them and offers her to call it quits. "I know you've missed them dearly. Feel free to join your friends," he offers with a smile._

 _She shakes her head. "No, I'm good, Colonel."_

" _Steven," he corrects her. She blushes ever so slightly, not used to being befriended by the top brass._

" _Louise," she replies, not wanting to hurt his feelings by looking cold and aloof._

" _You sure you don't want to go and see them? I do appreciate your company but I've seen you look at John Sheppard several times already, not to mention he has returned the favor..." She doesn't know if he's baiting her. She falls silent, not knowing what to answer. "I'm not trying to trick you here, Louise."_

 _She shakes her head and pouts. "Sorry about that. It's just I've just been cleared of pretty nasty accusations. I'm being weary of what people think. Colonel Sheppard is my friend. Period."_

 _He nods and smiles. "I get it. No love affair. I was just stating you two seem attached at the hip. It's not a bad thing actually. It gets pretty lonely, being a CO. He's lucky to have you."_

 _She doesn't know what to make of that so she just nods again. They play a couple of more games before he heads back to his temporary quarters._

" _You sure were homey with Caldwell last night," John mentions in passing when he drops by at her quarters for their morning run._

 _She narrow her eyes at him. "Are you jealous, John Sheppard?" she teases him and tickles his side, making him growl._

" _Am not," he replies indignantly. "You can date whoever you want."_

 _It's her turn to look indignant. "It was so not a date, Sheppard!"_

 _He sniggers. "He calls you Louise," he answers pointedly._

 _She rolls her eyes. "So what? You guys really start getting on my nerves, ya' know. Buckley mentioned it to me at breakfast as did Rodney when he dropped by to get his morning fix of coffee. What is wrong with you all? And you, John Sheppard, of all people, should know a man and woman can see each other without calling that a date!"_

 _Her voice has risen a tad and he knows he's nailed her all right. He chuckles. "It's so easy to get you on your high horse and so entertaining too, I wonder why I don't do it more often!" he teases her. She glares at him, hands on hips. He laughs out loud. "You're beautiful when you're angry." He winks at her and motions for her to follow him. "Come on, we haven't got all day." He sees her gape. "Close your mouth, sweetie. You might swallow a fly if you don't." He looks smug for rendering her speechless._

" _My grandfather used to say that to my granny when she was angry. It always took the wind out of her sails," she says in a small voice._

 _He tickles her and gives her his trademark grin. "Well, you sure are very much like your granny, it seems. Come. If you're a good girl and run your five K, I might even reward you with chocolate."_

 _She takes a long, hot shower after their run and heads back to the kitchen. She's a little early. It might even give her time on her own to experiment on a new recipe. She's met in the mess hall by Woolsey who's apparently waiting for her. "Good, you're early, Ms Léger," he nods approvingly, glancing at his watch._

" _Mr Woolsey, I thought you'd already left by now." The guy is like a leech, she reflects, her mood becoming suddenly sour. He never lets go._

 _He gives her a terse smile. "I wouldn't have without seeing you first, Ms Léger. It was in the IOA's prerogatives that you should be evaluated on certain aspects of your relationship with your direct superior. I have been observing you ever since you came back here, I might add. I didn't want to disturb you. We do need to talk though so I can finish my evaluation."_

" _And what can I do to put your mind and that of the IOA at rest?" she replies curtly._

" _And have me leave you alone..." he fills in, not without sarcasm._

 _She can't help chuckling. "Yeah, that too!"_

 _His lips twitch though he's trying to remain strictly professional. "You're blunt. I like it. It will save us time."_

" _I'll take that as a compliment," she replies with a smirk._

" _It is, Ms Léger. Now, I wouldn't like to interfere with your work but I was wondering if you might have time to prepare some light lunch for me before I leave. I know it's too early for the midday service..." He lets it hang in there, waiting for her answer. She could of course get some leftovers from the fridge but she has an inkling he's testing her to see where she stands._

 _She smiles at him. "Of course, Sir. It won't be an inconvenience at all. Actually, we do that all the time around here, as I'm sure you've noticed. And it's the case too at the SGC. People come and go all the time. We don't have office hours. We just adapt to whoever needs to be fed at a moment's notice."_

" _Good. So I guess I'll be able to see Mr Buckley as well then."_

 _She makes a face. "I'm afraid not, Sir. Mr Buckley usually drops by much later."_

 _He smirks. "That's what I thought... I'll have to be content with talking to you then."_

 _She tilts her head. "You want to have lunch or talk to me?"_

" _Actually, I was hoping you might allow me to have lunch in the kitchen. I'd very much like to get a tour of the place." He lifts his eyebrows expectantly._

" _Sure, no problem. If we make it quick. I'm gonna have a lot on my hands very soon," she answers, glancing at her watch. "Follow me."_

 _She sets the table for him at the table in the middle of the kitchen and offers him to sit. "What would you like to have for lunch, Mr Woolsey?" she asks him, folding her hands on the apron she's just donned._

" _Well, I'll let you be the judge of it, Ms Léger. I was told the whole point of your presence on this expedition was that you seemed to have an uncanny ability to know what people liked. What would I like then?" He's baiting her. This is her evaluation. If she passes it, she'll never have to worry about the man anymore._

 _She thinks hard, tapping her forefinger on her lower lip. "Let me see... I'm sure you'd love to taste my baked oysters but I don't have any at the moment. Besides, I was told you were not really keen on travelling through the gate so we'll opt for something safer..." She smirks, seeing he's disappointed by the lack of the first option but relieved she's gotten his point. "I'm thinking green salad with goat cheese, green apple and roasted pecans then broiled tilapia with parmesan. And if you still feel up to some dessert, I have fresh mango-like fruit from one of our trading partners. Actually it tastes like mango but is raspberry-colored. I use it in sherbets. One scoop on top of an almond soft cookie." She waits for his go-ahead._

 _He gives her a broad smile. "I think I'd like that very much, Ms Léger. Please, proceed," he says, putting his napkin on his knees resolutely, his eyes twinkling._

 _She chuckles inwardly. Mr Woolsey likes the good things in life, after all. She'd pinned him for a stuck up workaholic but that will do just fine for her. She sets to work and within minutes has his salad ready and the fish on the way. She cuts thin slices of rye bread she's made this morning, puts them in a basket that she lays on the table with a small butter dish filled with room temperature semi-salted butter. She then gets the ingredients for his dessert from the pantry and walk-in fridge. The tilapia is ready so she serves it with the salad bowl and motions for him to tuck in._

" _Areen't you going to join me?" he asks, feeling awkward, sitting there at the long table on his own. She chuckles. "I normally have lunch with my staff but sure, I can sit with you." She grabs a glass and pours herself some water._

 _He mainly eats in silence, humming in approval at the meal she's served him and when he's done with dessert and has set his napkin on the table, he nods with a smile. "I see why Dr McKay chose you, dear. I'm giving you my blessing."_

 _She nods too and stands to clear the table. "I have one more thing, though, to discuss with you, young lady. Please, sit." She does. The butterflies in her stomach have returned._ What now? _she cringes inwardly. He sees her worried. "I'm not trying to make you squirm, Ms Léger."_

" _Well, for someone who's not trying, you're doing quite a good job, I might say!" She pouts._

" _Do I? Well, I didn't know people regarded me as such a dragon! It's good to know. Or is that just you?"_

" _Oh, no, don't worry. It's everyone, I think." She sees him smirk and refrains from rolling her eyes. The guy likes his job a little bit too much._

" _I just wanted to make sure you'd follow the IOA's recommendation and set things straight with Mr Buckley." He lifts his eyebrows._

 _She smiles. "Don't you worry, Mr Woolsey. Now I've had a pep talk from everyone including the IOA and yourself, I'll make sure to do that asap."_

"Louise," John watches her curiously as she comes to his table to see if everything's all right. It's early in the evening and he hasn't seen her all day. They're all worried about the interview but apparently she hasn't been sent back to Earth so he gathers things went fine. "How did it go with Mr Woolsey? I saw him enter the kitchen before midday service. He wasn't nasty with you, I hope." He still thinks the guy is a prick, even after he's given Elizabeth his support. Too close to the IOA, too much of a politician, too ambitious to John's liking.

She laughs. "No, he wasn't. Actually, he liked my food so much he said it was a shame Atlantis wasn't closer to home or he'd drop by more often."

He sneers but seeing the look of amusement on her face, realizes she got him right there. "Minx!" he says, "I'll make you pay for that."

She tucks her tongue at him. He hasn't seen her that happy and carefree in days.

"So you worked your wonders again, little witch?" McKay adds with a smirk. "I knew he didn't stand a chance."

She rewards him with a smile and kiss on his cheek. "Thank you, Rodney, for the unconditional support you always have for my cooking. It warms my witchy heart," she replies with a smile that could light up the whole City.

"Hey! What about me?" John cries out indignantly. She looks at him fondly and blows him a kiss before heading back towards the kitchens. "Hey, Louise! Wait! Where are you going?"

She turns her head and winks at him, looking very wicked. "I'm going to set things straight with someone, as instructed by Mr Woosley. Won't take long. Keep a seat for me. I'll bring cake to celebrate!"

TBC

 _Extract from Louise's Cookbook_

 _Mr Woolsey seems to like food, which tells me he's not a lost cause after all. He particularly complimented me on my Broiled Tilapia with Parmesan._

 _butter_

 _parmesan_

 _mayonnaise_

 _lemon juice_

 _basil and onion, chopped_

 _celery salt_

 _tilapia fillet_

 _Mix the first seven ingredients._

 _Broil the fillet for 2 to 3 mn on each side. Remove from the oven._

 _Cover with the mixture on the top side and broil for three more minutes._

 _Serve with brocolis or a salad._


	31. Chapter 31

_Chapter 31_

 _Spoilers for Irresistible_

 _Hope you'll have as much fun reading this as I had writing it ;)_

They finish cleaning the kitchen after the morning service and set to work in the mess hall. They do it every day with a little extra time once a week. There's no one to clean but them here. It's something she had discovered to her dismay when she had taken over the kitchen on arriving on Atlantis. There was no way at the time cleaning personnel would be added to the already impressive number of people on the expedition. The food service had to double up as cleaning staff as well. She doesn't mind though now they've found their pace, especially now she finally has everyone back on track after the first disastrous months with Buckley.

A simple "I'm not your doormat, as Mr Woolsey probably told you" has set things straight for him as well as the rest of the staff. He still tries to snivel his way out of most of his duties so she's basically in charge again. He hasn't warmed up to her though nor has he apologized for his accusations but she's shrugged it off. He's better left alone. She ignores his occasional remarks and manages the kitchen as she wishes, since he's hardly there on time to make the important decisions.

When they're finally done with the cleaning, she heads towards the lab area, hoping to see Rodney. He's been so busy working on new projects, she knows if she doesn't go and seek him out, she won't be seeing him for weeks.

She passes through the storage areas and sees John turn the corner of the corridor and approach her, broom and bucket in hand. She looks twice to make sure she's not mistaken but it's him, yelling in his headset to "get a move on. We don't have all day" to whoever is on the same channel. He stops when he sees her and gives her a terse smile. "Hi, sweetie. What brings you down here?"

She motions towards the other end of the corridor. "Going to see Rodney and Zelenka. Watcha doin'?" she asks, narrowing her eyes at the broom.

He sneers. "Well, what do you think? Fighting session!" he ironizes. She makes a face. "Cleaning the jumper bay, of course. You don't really expect it to miraculously clean itself, right?" he sniggers. He's obviously pissed she's caught him in such a mundane occupation.

She snorts. "You? Cleaning?"

He looks offended. "What? Ya' think I'm not able to do it? What do you think? It's part of our training. Besides," he adds, pouting, "there was no choice. When we came here, we could have hardly taken an army of cleaning staff as well."

"And you're doing it because..." she prods some more, making him squirm. This is too good to be true! The CO of the City in charge of the protection of three hundred plus people and most of the galaxy, cleaning like a housewife!

He gives her a warning look. "Louise, don't even think it!"

She giggles. "It's kind of late for that. God, that's a sight to see! You look so sexy with that broom and bucket!"

He drops both and they clatter to the foor as he grabs her and starts tickling her. "You're gonna pay for that, love." He discovered some time ago when they were having a movie night how ticklish she is and it's become his most effective way of retaliating. She's now roaring with laughter and is begging him to stop. "Apologize," he orders, his hands still holding her waist.

"Sorry, John," she relents, tears in her eyes for laughing so hard.

"No, no, sorry, won't do, after such disrespectful behavior, my dear. You're on cleaning duty with me," he replies nastily, grabbing her hand and handing her the bucket.

She pouts. "I've just finished my chores, John..." she pleads with a puppy look.

He gets toe to toe with her, narrowing his eyes, but she sees his mouth twitch and sees the merriment in her eyes. "You should have thought about it earlier, sweetie. You're mine for the time being." He taps his headset. "Chuck, this is Colonel Sheppard speaking. Please relay the information to Mr Buckley that Ms Léger won't be available to help with the midday meal today. She's been grounded by her CO, no less! Sheppard out." He hears Chuck snort before he severes the communication.

She pouts at him. "The reputation I'm gonna have now! John, I mean, really?!"

"You should have thought about it before getting on my wrong side, sweetie. Besides, being a bad girl can be fun too, you know..." She snorts and tucks her tongue at him, not wanting him to have the last word. He takes hold of a clean mop he's folded in the bucket and slaps her butt with it, making her yelp indignantly. He points his head at the door to the jumper bay. "Get in there, soldier, before I'm tempted to strike again."

They spend most of the late morning cleaning all the jumpers and bay with the rookies. They work in teams of two. She stays with him, which allows them to catch up though he has to keep an eye on the rest of the staff. "Why do you do it too?" she asks, seeing he's working as hard as the others. "You could just supervise them. You're the City's 2IC," she points out.

"And let them think their superior is a lazy guy who's only good at ordering them around? No, thanks. I need to set the example. Besides, you're one to talk! You work harder than anyone in that kitchen and you're not below being on the cleaning staff either," he retorts.

He got her there. Still, it's weird to see him moping and dusting. She tells him.

"And washing and ironing and making my bed and cleaning my quarters..." he laughs. "Yes, I do all that and I'm not below cooking some grub if need be. We have to multi-task when we join the military and what's good for my men or the other half of the world, is good enough for me too."

She rewards him with a smile and kiss on his cheek after checking no one is watching. "What was that for?" he wonders. "Not that I will ever complain," he adds, grinning.

"For the other half of the world, John. It's rare enough to mention it when a man realizes he's not the only one to work in the house."

He shakes his head. "Not every man on the face of the Earth is a jerk, sweetie."

She pouts. She doesn't want this conversation to go south. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to suggest all men were selfish pricks."

He kisses her forehead. "I know." He exits the jumper and looks around, checking every nook and cranny has been cleaned in the jumpers and bay then sends his team on their way. "What do you say we clean up a bit and walk to the piers with a picnic before you have to head back to the kitchen? I'll take care of the picnic part," he offers, seeing her hesitate. "And won't tell Buckley you're the girl I'm taking with me." His eyes twinkle mischievously. He knows he has a reputation for wooing ladies and she suspects he likes it that way.

They end up sitting side by side on the edge of the west pier, their feet dangling over the water. They share a light meal of bread and cheese and fruit topped with home-made sun tea she's made that morning. He watches her cautiously as she gets her shot before she starts eating. It's the first time he sees her do it. He bites his lower lip and ruffles his hair, embarrassed.

She says "What?" seeing him watch her cautiously.

"I often forget you're sick," he answers sheepishly. He doesn't want to give the impression it bothers him.

"I'm not sick, John. At least I don't feel like it. I just need a little adjustment in my everyday life. It's no big deal," she corrects him.

"But you're more fragile..." he insists.

She shrugs. "Not really. I have to be careful with my diet and I tend to react more strongly to colds and vaccines. But apart from that, I'm OK. Don't mollycoddle me, OK?"

He pouts. "I like to mollycoddle you," he protests, making her laugh. He sneezes. "Sorry. Must be the wind." She giggles. A gust of wind sweeps over the pier and she sneezes too. "We'd better get back inside," he says, sneezing again. "So much for protecting you from the cold," he pouts. "I hope you won't get sick," he worries.

She shrugs. "The only thing I might get is probably a runny nose."

It so happens they both get sick and, stubborn as they are, they refuse to go and see Beckett. As long as her blood sugar level doesn't suffer from it, she refuses to head to the infirmary. Sure, she can't smell a thing and Rodney jokes she looks like Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, which he starts whistling every time she walks into a room, making her scowl. But she's all good, except for the suspicious looks she and John get for being sick at the same time when everyone else is fine. He refuses though to take her on a mission to a new planet that looks promising trade-wise, contending she cannot smell anything so she can't help with the food part. She scowls but relents, knowing he's right.

They return not long after with samples of fruit and vegetables they ask Buckley to taste. He looks at them suspiciously and ends up not liking anything. She huffs but tells John to forget about it. She has enough in the storage areas right now to feed the City for the months to come. She remarks his cold is not improving as he sneezes again and looks quite feverish but stubborn as he is, he refuses to take anything, saying "it will pass". She rolls her eyes at him and tells him to at least try to rest but he can't. Beckett has stayed on the planet to talk to some funny guy they've met and see if his medical research is of any value so they need to pick him up.

They return some time later with a tall and broad-shouldered man with a goofy smile who tries to charm his way into the kitchen almost as soon as he arrives. He obviously seems to know how to talk to women – and men alike, she reflects, nonplussed at the cheek of the guy.

"What do you think?" John asks, leaning towards her, his arms crossed on his chest, as they observe him interacting with Elizabeth and Teyla.

"Obnoxious and smug and really not my type," she answers, with a disgusted look.

He laughs. "And what's your type, sweetie?"

She rolls her eyes. "Told you so already. Tall, lanky and sarcastic."

He smirks. "Hey, that's just me!"

She snorts. "Yeah, sure."

He looks offended but sobers up quickly, his eyes still intent on the growing group of Lucius's admirers. "There's something fishy there. I need to put an end to it before it goes south."

Thing is – things go south so fast they don't have time to react. As it appears, they seem to be the only ones not affected by Lucius' influence. Putting two and two together doesn't take that long but it's already too late. There must be something in the air around Lucius that turns people into his pets and Louise and himself being sick simply cannot smell it.

It doesn't prevent Lucius from trying, over and over again. And as soon as John has his back turned, he has Buckley order her back into the kitchen to cook him whatever ridiculously complicated dish he's ear-marked on Buckley's pretentious looking cookbook.

She shakes her head stubbornly. "Uh, uh, won't do it. Told Buckley already. Not the kind of food I make. My meals are made for healthy people, not anorexic top models. I won't cook that. Period." He sees he can't charm his way with her so he tries every possible means of coercion, making Buckley then Elizabeth pull rank on her – which doesn't work because they spend half of their time giggling. Teyla comes to see her and begs her to do it. She rolls her eyes and doesn't relent. Ronon comes next, trying to look scary but only ends up telling Lucius she's stared him down and made him cry, by which time the intruder becomes really annoyed and Louise starts fearing they'll never see the end of it.

John has not returned yet and she's now the only sane person on base with no access to any the most strategic places in the City. John has often tried to have her keep a gun in her room – in case, he'd said – but she never came to terms with it. Now, she sees he was right, as usual. She needs to come up with a plan asap in case he needs support when he returns.

"Why can't you be like the others?" Lucius growls at her, advancing menacingly towards her as he enters her quarters and corners her against her desk. He's dropped the mask and looks really pissed, dangerous even. Not that he wasn't already dangerous for the people of the City or the City itself but now, it looks more personal and more imminent. He's not just selfish anymore – there's a wild, angry spark in his look. She gets suddenly very scared. She needs to change her strategy before he decides she's expendable.

She tries to look casual and unimpressed – even bored. She shrugs. "Don't know. Must be age," she drawls and leans her legs against the desk, her hands reaching behind her for the Swiss army knife she keeps there.

"Listen, honey," he says sweetly, making her sick in her stomach. "We need to find a compromise here. I agree I was too demanding. I just want to be friends..." He takes a step forward, being toe to toe with her now. His eyes light up. "And friends do things for each other... Why don't you tell me what I could do for you? And in return you'll do something for me," he offers benignly.

She thinks _What about get the hell out of here asap?_ but knows it won't do.

"Anything," he insists.

She narrows her eyes at him, coming up with a plan. She needs leverage of some kind and she won't probably get a second chance. She needs to choose well. _Be careful what you wish for_ comes up to her mind. _Magic always comes with a price_ is another one too, she answers the nagging inward voice that is telling her to be cautious. But it's too tempting. It's the strategic element she's been missing. If she can get him to have Beckett inject her with the Ancient gene therapy he's refused her until now, she'll be able to open and close doors, fly jumpers and access the control room.

"There is one thing that's always been in my heart's desire ever since we came here," she confesses in a shy voice, batting her eyelashes and looking embarrassed. She can't blush on cue but at least, she can pretend. She rolls her eyes inwardly at how hopeful he suddenly looks. "I've always wanted to have the Ancient gene to fly a jumper..."

He beams at her. "I do too! What a coincidence! I've asked Dr Beckett and Dr McKay to synthesize it for me. I could ask them to prepare a little bit more... If you're a good girl, of course..."

She nods with a broad smile. "Of course, whatever you want, Lucius. But if you're a good friend," she adds, "don't let Beckett or McKay change your mind. They've always refused me to have the gene."

"And why is that, sweetheart?" he asks, leaning towards her. _Oh, God,_ she thinks in horror _, he wants to give me a hug! Yewh! Gross!_

She sidesteps him and shrugs, trying to remain collected. "Oh, well, you know. I'm just an ordinary girl and they save the world every day. They don't think I deserve it," she adds wickedly, knowing he feels the same way.

He puffs his chest, looking indignant. "Well, sweetheart," he says, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, making her want to balk, "I won't take no for an answer. Come, you'll be the first to get the shot."

After that, everything goes blank. She's given a shot almost as soon as she enters the infirmary. Lucius is killing two birds with the same stone – checking the therapy works and rendering Louise

useless to John for the time being. Of course, he also hopes she'll be on his side for now on when she wakes up. Except she doesn't.

 _She's standing on a beach with a little boy barely out of kindergarten at her feet. He's making sand castles and she is helping him from time to time, smiling encouragingly. She looks over at the horizon where the sun is setting on the ocean. She looks back at the child, telling him to watch it too but only the sand castles are still there. The child has disappeared. She wants to run and look for him but her feet are rooted to the ground. The landscape slowly fades away, replaced by the void of the universe. Her eyes close of their own accord and she suddenly feels nothing – nothing at all._

"Colonel, she's waking up." She tries to open her eyes and blinks at the light that is prodding her pupils. She finally realizes Dr Beckett is holding the penlight and grinning at her. "Hello, love. How are you feeling? You've given us a fright."

She tries to answer but her mouth is parched and her throat sore. "Thirsty," she whispers.

She feels a hand slide behind her back to lift her a little while a straw reaches her mouth. She drinks avidly. "Thanks," she whispers. "Better."

"Welcome," she hears his voice in her ear. She would recognize it in a crowd. "John," she moans.

He kisses her temple. "Yes, sweetie. I'm right here."

She sighs in relief. "I'm sorry," she mutters, knowing if he's there, Lucius must have been dealt with and her plan must have failed somehow.

Beckett clears his throat. "Let's not dwell on that right now. There'll be plenty of time to apologize later. And you're hardly the only one responsible for this beautiful disaster."

She turns her head to him. "It didn't work, did it?"

He makes a face. "We don't know yet. It just nearly killed you."

She looks in alarm at John who looks weary. "You've been in a coma for a couple of days. You crashed almost immediately after they gave you the shot. Beckett had to revive you." He bites his lower lip. "You gave us a fright. I could kick your ass for it if you were not so weak," he growls.

She looks thoughtful and doesn't answer him. "What is it, Louise?" John worries.

She turns to Beckett, tears in her eyes. "You revived me?" He nods. "When it was clearly stated in my file I had forbidden you to do so?"

John groans. "Now, Louise. Carson did what he thought was right. There was no way he was going to let you die. And you're alive and well, so what's the point?" he chides her.

She thinks of the little boy and how real it had looked. She was dying and her brain had played tricks on her. It had never been real. She shakes her head. "Nothing. Sorry," she tells Beckett. "Could you two give me a moment to regroup?" she asks. They don't need to know she needs time to grieve – again.

John has relunctantly left her side but returns an hour later with the whole gang. He's told them to avoid giving her a talking to for being so reckless.

They tell her about what happened to Lucius, lightening the mood, but she's soon very tired and Beckett orders them out so she can rest. "John, can you switch the lights down low, please?" she asks him as he's the last to leave the room. He doesn't have time to react. The lights switch off as if of their own accord in the whole infirmary.

"You don't need to overdo it, John. My room will suffice," she teases him.

"I haven't done anything, sweetie," he says, as he switches them on again. He looks at her suspiciously. "Can you think about it?" he asks. She looks nonplussed. "I mean, about switching the lights off."

She shakes her head. "Why?"

"Humor me."

She concentrates on it. This time the whole section around the infirmary goes dark. He gives her a look. "I think it worked after all. And you got even more than you bargained for. I've never seen someone do so much in so little time. I wonder what else you can do..."

It turns out she is not only able to turn on and off most of the equipments in the City and fly the jumpers, she can also power the DHD from a fair distance without touching it. It's a strategic advantage for the City that comes with a price. She gets so tired and weak when she does, her blood sugar level drops to a dangerous level which makes Elizabeth decide she'll only allow her to use it in impending danger. She shrugs it off and decides she'll be the judge of it anyway. Her life, her call. Knowing her friends though, she doesn't say a thing about it. Little does she know Elizabeth, Carson and John have discussed it and decided should the situation not require her immediate sacrifice, she'd be kept away from any possibility of ever doing so.

TBC


	32. Chapter 32

_Chapter 32_

 _Spoilers for the Real World, Common Ground and McKay and Mrs Miller_

All she can do is watch her slip away from them, her body slowly invaded by the nanites, and him watch her in mounting despair, on the other side of the biohazard curtains, his hands clenched in fists at his sides. She finally leaves the doorway where she's been standing for hours and walks briskly along the corridors, not knowing where she's going.

Ronon finds her a little later, huddled against the wall of a balcony, shivering from the cold night air. She's too weak to move. He bends without a word and lifts her in his arms, taking her back to the infirmary. She protests. "Don't, please, don't! I don't want to be a liability for Beckett's team. They have enough on their hands as it is."

He gruffly puts her down. "You need to eat," he points out.

"OK." She doesn't want to fight him. She won't win.

He lifts her again in his arms and walks to the kitchen. He sits her at the table and opens the fridge, grabbing a few random things he sets in from of her. "Eat."

She laughs humorlessly. "You're such a sweet guy, Ronon."

He pushes his hair from his face and sits next to her. "You need to be there for him if we lose her," he says matter of fact and munches on a sandwish. "We won't be able to do it. You're his best friend. It's your job. So, eat," he repeats, pushing a sandwish and apple towards her.

"I need my shots."

He gets up and looks at her intently. She motions towards the pantry. "Top shelf on the right. Green bag. The insulin is in the fridge." He hands them to her without a word.

After she's eaten, she lets herself have a rare moment of dispair, crying on his shoulder. "I've lost so much already, Ronon. I don't know if I can take it anymore."

He wraps his arms around her and rocks her without a word. There's nothing to say in times like these and he sure can't promise things will get better. When she stops crying, all he says is: "I know a survivor when I see one. You'll manage somehow – for him. Let's get back to the infirmary. You need to be there if anything happens."

She sees him as he gets inside the curtains, risking his life for Elizabeth. He would do that for any one of them. And yet, she knows there's much more than meets the eye. He can take anything but not lose the woman who, in spite of difficult beginnings, has become his constant. She makes a silent prayer to whoever is out there, watching over them, that he won't have to go through that and they'll make it back to them – to their friends, to her.

She approaches the bed, mesmerized by the sight of him, holding Elizabeth's hand. Ronon grabs her from behind. "No, you won't," he roars. "No way you're going in there too. Sheppard will never forgive me for letting you." She kicks and screams but it's to no avail and she finally relents, crumbling in his arms, sobbing as he carries her outside and sits her in the corridor. That's where she remains as they rush him into isolation, too spent to get up.

She seeks him out, having made some of his favorite cookies. She hears them before she sees them, talking softly on the balcony so she steps back and leaves quietly. There'll be time enough in the morning to tell him how scared she's been to see him put his life in the line of fire once more. And yet, she suspects it's the last thing he wants to hear. He does what's right, not what's easy. Besides, it was Elizabeth there. There's no point in discussing it after all. She would do the same for any of them.

She leaves the cookies in the Control Room and trudges back to the kitchen, knowing she won't get much sleep tonight, which is a shame because she badly needs some rest after the fright they've just had. She meets Rodney on the way. "Seen John recently?" he asks, knowing those two are always around each other. She shakes her head innocently. "Elizabeth then?"

She shakes her head again. "Nope, haven't seen them..." _Technically it's not a lie_ , she smirks inwardly. Her mood brightens suddenly, thinking of John and Elizabeth on their balcony, because it's their balcony and no one else's. It's so rare they have time together, what with her working all the time and often shying away from most social events, and him knowing it's not meant to happen anyway, it warms her heart to know they've had time to reconnect tonight. She makes a mental note of making sure they get more of these moments if she's got her say in the matter – to hell with rules and regulations.

Rodney snaps his fingers impatiently at her. "Louise, hey, anyone there?" She looks at him with a goofy smile on her face, a far cry from her forlorn and drawn look of some hours ago. He looks at her suspiciously. "What are you up to, Léger?" he taunts her.

She smirks then sashays towards the kitchen. "Nuthing, Rodney, nuthing at all!"

"It's a dangerous game you're playing here, Louise," Jeanie has told her. "I don't know much about the rules applying to off-world expeditions but I was not aware the rules had changed about not dating one's boss. You're gambling with both your friendship and their careers. Giving them opportunities to connect and placing them in situations where they might wonder about the possibility of more than the friendship they have will come with a price. And if they have to pay for it or if it doesn't work out, Colonel Sheppard will hold you responsible for it. Do not believe everyone can be a successful Emma," she adds pointedly, referring to the book she's seen on Louise's shelves.

"Don't you believe everyone has their chance at happiness, Jeanie?" she insists. They're sitting on the bed in Jeanie's temporary quarters as the younger woman is getting ready to head back to Earth. The two of them have hit it off from the start, making Rodney squirm at what his sister might recount to her new friend about their childhood. She's confided in her how much she would like Sheppard and Weir to get their happy ending – preferably together.

"I think..." Jeanie sighs and takes her hands in hers. "I think you should let them play the game by their own rules and not interfere. If it's meant to be, then it'll happen. And if it's not, well, Colonel Sheppard will have plenty of choice – starting with a certain petite cook I know."

She laughs it off. "Really, Jeanie, you're hilarious. I'm what? Five years older than he is. Not withstanding the fact this is really a preposterous idea, seeing as he's my best friend, I'm definitely out of the game!"

Jeanie shakes her head in disbelief. "I don't think this is what really counts, but you know what? Let's not discuss it. Time will tell."

"I don't know what's happening to her these days, 'Lizabeth," he says, eyeing her worriedly as she's going from table to table to offer more coffee to the early birds having breakfast. "I'm kind of worried she's being bullied again by Buckley. He seems eerily demure these days – as if he's onto something – and she keeps away from me. Doesn't even run with me anymore."

"John Sheppard, are you becoming a mother hen?" she teases him.

He rolls his eyes. "You're not helping here!"

"All right, John, I'll talk to her if that puts your mind at rest."

He rewards her with his trademark grin and stands. "I need to get to the armory. I'll leave you to it."

She chuckles. "Impatient much, are we?" He makes a face, making her laugh, and walks to the racks where they drop their trays. She watches him strategically weave his way through the tables so his path may cross Louise's but she eludes him, as she's done for the last few days – ever since John was taken by Kolya and almost drained of his life by the Wraith they've called Todd.

Louise makes her way quickly towards the kitchen and disappears into the storage area, ignoring Buckley's insistent remarks that they're going to be short of... The rest of what he says is lost on her as she's decided to tune him out most of the time. It doesn't prevent him from being a pain in the neck but at least, he doesn't have leverage anymore, being barely tolerated on base and despised by most.

Elizabeth waits until the afternoon to talk to her. Louise spends a lot of time with Ronon these days, venting out her frustration in combat and shooting sessions. She needs to stay away from John but it doesn't come to her easily.

Ronon doesn't ask questions and he certainly doesn't judge her. She discovers that, surprisingly so, given his often intimidating behavior, he's got an easy-going personality. He's very different from Rodney in many ways but like him, he never pushes her limits and is always happy with what she feeds him. The added bonus is that when he drops by, Buckley scampers away as if he'd seen the devil himself.

She knows John has frown more than once at not finding her alone when he wanted to talk to her recently. Ronon being there, he usually stays a couple of minutes to get a tray for Elizabeth, feeling unwanted. He's mentioned it to Elizabeth to which she answered with a smirk Louise had the right to see anyone she wanted – being single. "Yeah," he'd replied casually. "But not Ronon." She'd looked cheekily at him and replied that it might not be his call, which had made him pout.

Ronon sees Elizabeth from the corner of his eye and tells Louise it will be quite enough for today. "Not by far!" she cries out indignantly. "We've been at it for what? Thirty minutes tops. What's wrong with you today?" He tilts his head towards the door. "Oh, right, sorry. I guess I'll see you tomorrow then."

He winks at her. "Or earlier if I need an extra snack around, say, eleven?"

She laughs. "I'll keep something on the stove for you." He leaves and she turns to Elizabeth. "Ma'am," she greets her. "You wanted to see me?"

Elizabeth smiles at her. "I haven't seen much of you lately... Neither has John," she adds tentatively, making Louise blush. _Oh, so this is what it's all about!_

"Well, Ma'am, I've been quite busy..." It's gonna be difficult to get out of that one, knowing her boss.

"With Mr Dex, I see," Elizabeth elaborates with a grin.

Louise flushes. "Wait! This is not what you think." She sees Elizabeth's grin widen. "Did John send you here?" she asks suspiciously.

"He might have asked me, as a friend, to investigate a certain matter that's been nagging at him, yes."

"And what would that be? If it's about Ronon and I, you can tell him it's none of his business though I want to make that clear for you, Ma'am, we're just sparring partners – no more." She's getting aggravated at herself for being so dumb. _Of course, he'd not leave well enough alone!_

Elizabeth chuckles. "Thanks for the intel, Ms Léger, but you're a grown woman and are allowed to see who you want. Actually, it's more a general change in your behavior that's making Colonel Sheppard antsy. I would have told him to mind his own business in other circumstances but John seems to think you're angry at him for something he doesn't remember doing – or not doing. Is it the case?"

She looks bewildered. It was never her intention to make him feel that way. "No, Ma'am, absolutely not. I was just made aware that John and I were always seen around each other. It's plain to see he needs to connect to other people – explore other options."

Elizabeth looks nonplussed. "So, correct me if I'm wrong – you think you're not good enough for him?"

Louise sighs and decides to come clean, at least for the most part. "I'm plain and ordinary and older than him. Very soon he'll realize there's pretty much nothing more to me than what meets the eye. He deserves to spend time with other friends, that's all."

Elizabeth makes her sit on the bench that lines the sparring room. "Louise," she chides her, "would that have anything to do with the recent incident with Koyla?"

She refuses to look her in the eye and shrugs. "It might. When I thought he had died, I realized he'd missed so much he was entitled to and I felt selfish for taking so much of his time. And then he came back and he looked so young... It's not fair for him to be around me so much. I'll never be able to compete with younger people. No matter how fit I am, I can't hide the fact that I'm starting to show my age."

Elizabeth laughs out loud. "It's because you've discovered a few white hair that you deem yourself unworthy of him? Now, that takes the cake, Louise! He is worried sick for you right now and no matter how hard you try to shake him off, he will never see you as anything but his Louise." She taps her headset. "Colonel Sheppard? Come in." Louise looks in alarm at her and shakes her head. Elizabeth smirks. "Yes, John. Could you please join me and Ms Léger in the sparring room. She has something to show you. Weir out." She turns to Louise with a grin. "Now, Louise. You're going to come clean about that whole stupid idea you put in your head." She frowns and adds, "I surmise there's more to it, though, knowing you came here to hide from humanity in general and human relations in particular. Let me tell you something. You might be older than me but you're none the wiser for it. John will go on loving you whether you like it or not. And if you think shunning him will help him connect to other people, you're sadly mistaken. The woman he'll set his eyes upon will have to accept you into the bargain. Period."

She sees the door whoosh open and John enters the room. Louise sees their eyes connect and they grin at each other. Elizabeth points at Louise. "Mend this, asap. Oh, and Ms Léger," she adds with a wink, "about what I just said, I know if it were me, I would gladly get the whole package. Talk some sense into her," she whispers in John's ear as she leaves.

TBC


	33. Chapter 33

_Chapter 33_

 _Spoilers for The Return/ mid-season 3_

"Ma'am, can I talk to you for a sec'?" Louise is standing in the doorway of Elizabeth's soon-to-be former office. Mayhem rules the Control Room and the whole city as they're getting ready to evacuate in the next forty-eight hours as ordered by the long-lost crew of the Ancient vessel they've rescued. Ever since she's been told she should start packing, Louise's thoughts have been a maeltrom of emotions. She's fought so hard to stay here and now she has no choice but leave the place they've come to call home.

"Ah, Ms léger, have you finally packed everything? The Ancients are not too happy about having to wait so long for us to vacate the premises," Elizabeth points out sarcastically.

"Well, yes, Ma'am. Everything is ready to be beamed up to the Daedalus' holds. But it's not the reason why I'd like to have a word." The decision was hard to make but now she's here, she needs to just blurt it out before she chickens out and spends the rest of her life regretting it. "Ma'am, I've talked to General O'Neill and told him I don't want to return home."

Elizabeth lifts an eyebrow. "None of us do but it's not your call, Ms Léger."

"No, Ma'am, you don't understand. I'm not asking the Ancients to keep me here. I've been offered to stay at the Athosian settlement by the elders and I've decided to accept their offer. I will not return to Earth with you."

Elizabeth looks at her in dismay. "But, Ms Léger, you cannot do that. It's a one-way ticket we're talking about. You'll be cut off from Earth for good. The Ancients do not take too kindly to our request of coming round here anymore. They've agreed to keep Mr Woosley and General O'Neill as temporary guests but soon enough, they too will have to head back to Earth. You'll not be able to return – ever," she explains to her patiently, while pondering calling John to join them. Surely, he hasn't agreed to that!

Louise looks at her resolutely. "So be it. I've not made this decision lightly, Ma'am. I prefer to stay with Teyla and Ronon than have to return to Earth permanently. There's nothing there for me."

Elizabeth looks hurt. "What about us? I thought by now you'd come to see us all as friends!"

Louise pouts. "It's not what I meant, Ma'am. You'll all be redeployed. I don't have anywhere to go. I'll most likely be made redundant sooner or later and when I am, my visa won't be renewed. I do not wish to return to my country of origin which, as I'm sure you can see, leaves me stateless. Here, I have good friends and a people who is ready to call me their own. It's more than I could hope for on Earth."

"You cannot do that, damn it," she hears John stomp inside the room and growl. "I will not let you! Elizabeth will not let you!" He turns her around and grabs her shoulders, forcing her to look into his eyes. His look of hurt mirrors Elizabeth's.

She sighs and shrugs him off gently. "It's not your call, John."

"It damn well is! I'm still the CO and Elizabeth is still your boss. I can force you to go."

She pouts and wraps her arms around him, not caring if anyone sees them. She's usually so cautious about not showing her affection for him in public, he's shocked. "Don't fight me on this, John," she whispers in his ear. "It would kill me to get back and you know what I'm talking about. Here, I'll find a balance. I'll keep busy. I'll be useful."

Elizabeth leaves the room quietly knowing there's nothing much she can do and contrary to what John has stated, she won't fight Louise on that if that's what she really wants. She was ordered by the IOA to read Louise's file after it was complete. Louise needs to stay away from Earth – for her own sanity. She might one day be ready to come back but now is not the time.

"You can keep busy on Earth. And you'll have us. You'll always be useful and loved, Louise. And I'll be there for you. We all will," he begs, seeing how bullheaded she looks right now.

"That's the thing, John. I don't want you to feel you have to take care of me. I'm a handful and you have a brilliant career ahead of you and, if my wishes come true, a wonderful life. I'd only be in your way. Elizabeth will get a job as a diplomat again, travelling the world. Rodney will get a ridiculously high-paying job and Carson will end up with the Nobel Prize. You'll all see each other from time to time and remenisce about the good old days. I'm not part of the picture."

He is at a loss for words, fear creeping up his spine. "You cannot do that, Louise. I need you. You're my lucky charm... Our little witch," he adds tentatively, repeating McKay's words.

She shakes her head. "You'll do just fine without me, John Sheppard." She turns around and leaves the room at a run, not wanting him to see the tears in her eyes.

They all come, one by one, to try and make her change her mind but she stays firm in her resolve. It's for the best for everyone.

Carson is the last. "You need to understand, love, that you cannot possibly survive without your treatment. For a reason I have not had time to explore and probably will never be given the chance," he explains, wincing at the thought of all the lost opportunities, "diabetes is endemic to Earth. Thus the lack of alternative treatment for you in this galaxy. I have about a year and a half worth of insulin in the infirmary I can give you, along with a portable fridge and generator but that's all I can do. You have to understand the Daedalus might not be allowed to drop by as often as we want so you'll be on your own from then on, and without treatment..." he lets it hang in there, appalled at the mere possibility.

She smiles at him. "Stop worrying, Carson. I've extended my luck already as it is. If bad comes to worse, I will take what I have and enjoy what time I have left."

"It's planned suicide, Louise," he protests.

She gets into his face, holding her finger menacingly at him. "I forbid you to ever say that in front of any of them, got it? No one needs to know how much insulin you're leaving me. They have enough on their plates right now. I have made my choice, Carson. This is my damn life!"

She's not with Teyla and Ronon as they say their goodbyes in the gate room. She's given quick hugs to everyone earlier, telling them she was honored to have met them, and then headed through the gate to the new Athosian settlement, her head held high and her eyes void of tears.

John cannot believe she's been so cold with him, not letting him hold her longer in his arms than the others. He retreats in his shell on the way home, barely talking to anyone. Truth be told, they all look despondent and a little lost. He watches Elizabeth closely throughout the flight home but respects her need to keep to herself too. Louise's last words were for her. "Don't forget one thing, John. She'll need support in the months to come from all her friends but mostly from you. Let her know you're there for her. No rules and regulations apply where you two are going."

"Nope," he'd agreed with a sneer. "No Louise by my side either..."

"A bane for a boon," she'd replied cheekily.

They find their pace at the settlement. Louise is welcomed as a long-lost relative and easily fits in. She's had to do it twice already – adjusting to a new life – that a third seems like a piece of cake at first. She's not used to living in the great outdoors but it's thrilling – kind of like going to summer camp for an extended period of time. Sure, she misses her bread machines and food processors. She even dreams about them at night sometimes. She just chooses to laugh it off and be content with what she has.

It's her friends she misses the most – to the point when sometimes all she can think of is them, losing interest in anything else around her. Food tastes like ashes, cooking has lost its magic and she doesn't connect to people in the settlement more than superficially, having many acquaintances but never trying to make new friends.

Halling even comes to her one day, pointing out it's been almost two months and should she not try to move on with her life? He knows of quite a few widowers in their forties and thirties who'd gladly woo her, should she show any inclination for it. He points discreetly towards some of them as they work around the settlement. She laughs humorlessly and he sees no light in her eyes, just sadness and indifference. She tells him about her story and he ceases to bother her. He understands it would take no less than an extraordinary man to get her back to the land of the living.

They reach the encampment in the early evening. A few women are busy cooking the evening meal. He looks around, trying to locate her. They see Teyla and Ronon and walk to them briskly. The meeting is joyful, the Athosian and Satedan having lost hope by now they'd ever see their friends again. John feeds them the information they've received from General O'Neill's last transmission and shows them what they've brought to regain control of the City. "But before we go," he tells them, seeing Ronon checking his gun and knife, "I need to see her. Where is she?" he asks hopefully, looking from one to the other.

"She's in the farthest tent, Colonel Sheppard," he hears Halling tell him. The Athosian has been informed by his son that the Lantean team has arrived shortly and has hurriedly left said tent to come and see them. "I'm glad to see you're all safe. Jinto tells me Atlantis has been attacked by Replicators..."

John nods. "We've come for Teyla and Ronon. We're gonna take back what is rightfully ours."

Halling smiles at him. Louise has let it slip in her conversations so many times in the last few weeks – the word home. He sobers up quickly. "I'm relieved to see you have brought Dr Beckett with you. We're in dire need of his help. Louise has fallen ill and nothing we've tried, not even the medicine you've left, seems to have any effect on her..."

John leaves at a run towards the edge of the settlement and pushes the flaps of the tent open. She's lying on a bed, eyes closed and doesn't even turn to him when he enters. A young woman is kneeling next to her and applying a wet rag on her forehead. His friend looks feverish and very pale. He kneels beside her too and takes her hand that goes limp in his. He turns to Halling as he enters after him. "What the hell happened to her?" he demands, eyes darkening. "I leave her into your care and now she's not even conscious!"

Halling doesn't take the bait. It's obvious Colonel Sheppard is worried sick. Dr Beckett is already at her side, checking her vitals and asking a few questions to the improvised nurse. "She got sick about a week ago. Some of the kids in the village started falling ill with one of the most common childhood diseases we have around here. We commonly call it the red rash. Its symptoms are red spots, fever and sometimes hallucinations but it goes away after barely a few days with the decoctions we use and it never affects adults."

"Maybe because you all got it when you were younger," Beckett reflects.

The young woman shakes her head. "No, not all of us. But it seems adults are resistant to it."

"Yes, but Louise is more prone to falling ill from such exotic infections and if she does, she is not as resistant," Beckett reflects, glancing at John's worried look. "How long has she been that feverish?"

"A couple of days. When we saw your medicine for fever wasn't working, we contacted the Ancients but they never replied," Teyla explains, having entered the tent as well.

John sneers. "That's because they were having too much on their hands already. Besides, I'm not sure they'd have answered your SOS. They're pretty selfish bastards."

Elizabeth protests. "John!"

He sniggers. "What? At least I'm saying aloud what everyone is thinking!" He turns to Beckett. "Can you do something for her here?"

Carson nods. "Aye, I think so. I'm going to put her on a large-spectrum antibiotics treatment." He looks up at Halling. "She's gonna be on an IV. You've seen it back on Atlantis so I'm counting on you to change the bags when needed. It's a good thing I brought enough equipment and medication in the jumper. She's dehydrated and very weak. I gather she hasn't had anything to eat for days..."

Halling nods. "She was too weak to swallow and I remembered she needed to eat after her shots so we didn't give them to her either."

Rodney has just entered the tent. "What the hell! Are you insane? No food and no insulin! What went through your heads! She could die."

John turns to him. "Shut up, Rodney!" he barks.

McKay scowls. "Oh, yeah, right. I had forgotten you were the only one allowed to care about her!"

Elizabeth lays a soothing hand on his arm. "We know you're worried for her too. But it won't help to get on your high horse. Carson is on it."

John looks at Beckett. "Is she gonna be alright?" He gulps. He can't lose her once again. It would be so unfair.

Carson smiles at him fondly. "Yes, Colonel. Absolutely. Now, what you all can do is step outside so I'll have more room to start the treatment." He sees John hesitate. "Yes, even you, Colonel." John pouts but bends to kiss her temple before he leaves the tent. "Get better, little witch, I need you to come home to me," he whispers in her ear.

She can sit and has eaten a little by the time they return. Beckett has agreed with Halling that the women of the village should take her to the sweat lodge when her fever is finally down – the moist heat from the furnace and the subsequent bath they usually take being the best way to get rid of the last traces of the rash. She's changed into clean clothes and she's finally feeling herself again after days of delirious nightmares for her and worry for the settlement.

Everyone is relieved to see her well. But she's worried for John and the team. They haven't returned yet and the replicators are not any kind of enemy. "They're sneaky and adapt too quickly, Halling. I'm worried." He laughs it off telling her Sheppard's team is reknown for being pretty resilient. "Like yourself," he adds with a smile. "Don't worry. I've posted men at the gate. The moment the jumper returns, I'll be informed."

They get word of an incoming wormhole about an hour after that conversation. She wants to leave the tent and go see for herself but he's adamant. "Dr Beckett's orders. You must not exert yourself."

She takes hold of one of the few books she's kept with her and starts flipping through it. Halling laughs. "You're not a very patient woman. Very much like Colonel Sheppard himself, I may say." She scowls. "Well, I'm being patient! I'm trying to read here, you know."

He laughs some more. "Is that a new way of reading, Ms Léger? Your book is upside down!"

She hears voices approach her tent and cannot wait any longer. She throws the book aside and clambers to her feet, still feeling a little wobbly. Rodney then Beckett and finally Elizabeth enter the tent. "We're back!" Rodney announces smugly, a goofy smile on his face. They've been told she is OK.

She smiles but looks around worriedly. "Where's John?" she demands. He enters the tent last, with Teyla and Ronon who look relieved to see her standing after a taxing week worrying whether she would make it. He turns to the others. "If you don't mind, the cook and I have to have a little private conversation." He winks at Elizabeth and she smiles back, pushing people gently outside.

Rodney worries. "He's not gonna yell at her again, is he? 'Cuz it was not her fault this time." Elizabeth chuckles. "No, Rodney. They just need to reconnect. And if I remember properly, it's you who always bickers with him, not her."

He rolls his eyes at her. "Really? I think if we had to count the times they've had a fight, I would be soundly defeated!"

John steps closer and makes her sit. "You're not reasonable, Louise. You should be resting."

She pouts. "Is it the first words I'm gonna have to remember about you coming home to me? That I'm not reasonable?"

He gives her his trademark grin and wraps her in his arms. She tenses. "No one is looking, Louise. Let go, for once," he whispers in her ear. She sighs with content and wraps her arms around his middle, cuddling closer. "That's my girl!" He rubs gentle circles on her back. "How are you doing?"

"Better now you're all here. How are you?" she asks against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart and the rumble in his chest as he talks to her.

"Peachy!" he banters. "We beat them into a pulp and got our home back. By the way, Mr Woolsey and General O'Neill are OK too and sending their regards. When are you ready to come home?"

She looks up at him, drinking in the fondness she sees in his hazel eyes. "Would now be OK?"

He chuckles and helps her stand up. "You bet!"

TBC


	34. Chapter 34

_Chapter 34_

 _Thank you, once again, Guest 64 for your kind words._

The place looks deserted as they settle back temporarily before the bulk of the expedition returns to Atlantis. The systems are down and Rodney needs to run diagnostics before they consider it safe for everyone to come back. Caldwell is keeping the Daedalus in orbit and has only sent a few marines pending Elizabeth's go-ahead. Louise can't wait to get back to her kitchens. She hasn't much variety to cook meals but it's just them for now so it'll be easy-peasy. She'll even be able to help with checking the systems throughout the City.

They sit in the eerily silent mess hall and have dinner after a long day's work. They've worked in teams of two, John pairing with her.

"Why didn't you go with Elizabeth?" she reproaches him as they take the transporter to yet another part of the City.

He huffs. "Louise..."

She pouts and falls silent. "I thought, maybe..."

He glances at her as he exits the transporter. "You thought wrong. There wasn't enough time for us to connect. Besides, everyone was pretty down, ya' know. She walled herself up a lot, often refusing to join me and Rodney for drinks. Only Beckett got through her defences. He's so... I don't know, kind and genuine, she cannot refuse him anything."

He walks more briskly and she has to run to follow him. "Wait! I'm sorry. I shouldn't pry."

He turns to her and combs his hand through his hair. "Listen, Louise, you have to understand. Elizabeth is my friend and I think it best it remains that way. Look at how happy she is right now. It's obvious she'll always choose the City over anything else. We're back and we probably were not meant to be, anyway. If you want to help, stop pestering me with it."

"I'm so not pestering you!" she cries out indignantly, hands on hips.

He chuckles. "Are!" he counters with a smirk.

"Am not!" She swats his arm, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Lady, you've made a big mistake there!" he informs her, locking eyes with her.

She raises her arms in mock surrender. "Just almost died, remember," she reminds him. "You wouldn't dare!"

He sniggers. "You shouldn't have started this, Léger, and nothing you say will save your ass!" he shouts after her, seeing her bolt.

"I swear," Rodney says with a scowl, "you guys have to stop bickering all the time. I'm so tired of this!" He turns to Elizabeth: "Remind me why we came back for her?"

"Because you can't do without my cooking, Mer," Louise baits him, knowing he hates to be reminded of his childhood nickname.

He lifts a finger at her. "Watch it!"

John growls menacingly. "Rodney... Don't you dare threaten the hand that feeds you!"

Rodney sighs emphatically. "Always the same routine! They bicker, I protest and suddenly, I'm the bad guy!"

Louise wraps her arms around his neck. "Poor cry baby!" He rolls his eyes but relents. It's so good to be back and have her in one piece.

"So," he says, clapping his hands on his knees and looking round at the rest of the team, "what do we do now?"

"I gather from the diagnostics you have run, we can safely state that we can call the SGC with the good news," Elizabeth replies with a smile.

"And from then on?" Louise wonders.

"We might have to go back to Earth to rebuild our staff. The bulk of the expedition will probably be most willing to return but we'll need to make a few adjustments."

"Meaning?" Ronon asks.

"Meaning, we're the ones who single-handedly regained control of the City and I'm not letting anyone decide but us who is staying and who is not. I have a few names in mind already..."

John lifts an eyebrow expectantly. She chuckles. "Yes, John, you're getting my lead all right!"

He turns to Louise, smirking. "I think our little cook here is definitely getting rid of any pestering chef and staff she doesn't like."

Of course, it's not done without pulling a few strings and giving a few fights. John, for one, has to resort to ways he's always despised but the needs justify the end, as the saying goes, and there's no way Buckley will be allowed to return. His uncle is still very influencial and not a day passes when they do not receive news of his impatience at being given back the position he believes is rightfully his.

John ends up in General Landry's office with a storage key in hand and a murderous glint in his eyes. "I've just received word that the IOA is considering advising Homeworld Security on Buckley's renewal of his contract. I'm going to be very clear, Sir. It will be over my dead body!"

Landry chuckles. "Sit down, son. Let's explore other ways before we resort to such desperate measures!"

"Actually, Sir, I came here looking for advice," John replies, appeased.

"Good. For a moment I thought you were ready to kill me if I did not comply," the older man banters.

John's lips curl up. "Sorry, Sir. Can't help the quick temper. It's gotten me in quite a lot of trouble over the years. I should have learned my lesson by now."

Landry waves a hand dismissively. "You're forgiven. You deserve to be cut some slack after your recent deeds. Tell me what you have."

John hands him the key. "This contains all the information you need to prove Buckley intended to pass strategic intel onto his uncle when he returned to Earth."

Landry sits straight but takes the time to plug the key onto his computer. "You mean he passed said intel?"

"No, Sir, I mean he meant to. He never got the chance. I, along with Ms Léger, caught him several times taking pictures of different parts of the City, including places where he didn't need to be. I let him do it, to see what he wanted to do with them. Rodney – I mean Dr McKay – cracked his password to his computer and found drafts of emails he intended to send his uncle with enough information to invade the base, should anyone ever want to do so." Landry is browsing the files Sheppard is telling him about as he speaks.

"Where are the original documents, Colonel Sheppard? Did you let him take them back to Earth?"

John sniggers. "You're kidding me, right, General? All the luggage of the returning staff were searched through minutely and his electronic equipment was confiscated "for security reasons". No need to tell you he never got it back. It had a "little accident" in the holds of the Daedalus."

Landry chuckles. "I thought so! Well, in that case, I think we have enough leverage to have him arrested for treason..."

John shakes his head. "Don't, Sir. He's not worth the effort. Keep him where you can watch him closely."

"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer," Landry quips back with a smirk.

She ends up having to return to Earth for a few days. Elizabeth has gone first with Beckett and gotten the bulk of the work done, returning with most of the expedition members. Rodney has just sent the list of people he needs, not wanting to leave the City, contending he has too much work to do. Louise goes last with John. He already knows exactly who he wants with him but Elizabeth has agreed Louise shouldn't go alone.

She makes hasty work of the interviews, Major Lawrence having narrowed the candidates to a shorter list of already trained young men and women eager to embark on the adventure of a lifetime. Most of them have worked with him at the SGC. "She has even already met some of my trainees, though briefly, during her interview with the IOA," Lawrence tells Sheppard on his first visit to the SGC. "I've made sure they have proper training to double up as teams if you need them and they're already trained as prep cooks. She's had enough on her plate these recent months. She deserves to rest a little and enjoy herself more," he adds with a wink and a smile.

"And by enjoying herself, you mean..."

"Testing new recipes, going off-world to trade for new exotic, enticing food... And if her CO is a little lenient with her, fly her own jumper..." Lawrence smirks, seeing John look up in surprise.

"She told you about that?"

"Oh, yeah, Colonel. She dreams of the day you'll entrust her with her own team and jumper. In the meantime, I know for a fact she'd love nothing more than to have a certain flyboy teach her how to fly those things."

She parks the jumper in the jumper bay and beams at him. He nods. "Smooth!"

She grins at him proudly. "I can't believe I did it!"

He shakes his head, seeing her so happy about such an easy thing for him. "It's only your first session, sweetie. You'll need to train much more."

"I promise to be an A student," she announces, with her hand on her heart. He chuckles. "And when I'm done with the flying lessons, you'll give me my own jumper, yes?" She gives him a toothy grin.

"Now, wait a minute, lady! You've flown that thing for half an hour and you wanna go top gun on your own?! Uh, uh!"

She gives him her best puppy look and clasps her hands together. "Please, please, pretty please?" She bats her eyelashes. "I promise to be a good girl and do anything you say, Santa Claus, if only you give me a jumper."

He roars with laughter. "You'll be the death of me!"

"Does that mean yes?" she asks hopefully. He shakes his head, still laughing. "Please, say yes, John," she begs again.

"Yes, John," he mocks her. She swats his arm. "Wow, hey! You have to stop doing that, sweetie." She tucks her tongue at him. He reflects he's never seen her so happy.

He walks into Elizabeth's office some minutes later, Louise in toe. She's grinning from ear to ear. He points with his thumb behind him. "She wants a jumper," he says, rolling his eyes.

Elizabeth chuckles. "Well, then, give it to her!"

Louise smirks and tucks her tongue at him. "See! Told ya'!"

He rolls his eyes once more. "Elizabeth," he banters, "don't indulge the child! We'll never see the end of it!"

"You know you'll end up giving her what she wants so why fight her?" she says, lifting her eyebrows.

Louise smiles at her and turns to leave. "Thank you, Ma'am," she says then adds as she passes John: "See you tomorrow, flyboy!"

TBC


	35. Chapter 35

_Chapter 35_

 _Just a few words to say, if you like food and enjoy the recipes I post, I'm now on Pinterest at Laurie Seasoned with Love and have created a blog on Tumblr._

 _Just search for letsseasoneverythingwithlove. The blog will contain some of Louise's recipes and many more. Enjoy._

"You check with us every two hours, you do not stray and if anything seems weird, you fall back immediately, got it?" He's checking out the rules on his fingers as he's enunciating them. He gives her the look – the one that says "don't mess with me or else".

She scowls and extends her hand, palm up, as if waiting for him to hand her something. "And I'll be back before ten. Now, Dad, can I get the keys?"

Elizabeth covers her mouth with her hand to cover her smirk. It's Louise's first time off-world with her own team and the jumper. She can't wait to leave and John can't wait to have her home in one piece.

" _I don't see why she should do this so soon, 'Lizabeth," John huffs. He's currently propped on the side of her desk, discussing the matter of Louise's team. They've been home for almost two months now and he's trying to delay the inevitable._

" _Look, John. She's done everything you've asked of her, and some more. She's trained more than most scientists in the City and yet, you insist on babying her."_

 _He scowls. "I so not!"_

 _She lifts her eyebrows and smirks. "Really?"_

 _He sighs. "Call it foreboding if you want but I'm not comfortable letting her go off-world on her own. Why don't you put her on a team, or wait for us to be available for what she's planned to do?" he asks hopefully._

 _She shakes her head. "John, I'm putting my foot down on that one. She's ready and willing and she's got the gene now. Besides, you've assembled the perfect team for her. Having Ridgeway and Wilson back on base as her under-cooks is a blessing. They can switch from under-cook to off-world assistant so she'll always be with one of them while the other takes care of the food service here. Harrison is a "damn good soldier" – your words, not mine – and Captain Johansen has passed your tests with flying colors." She enumerates the details they've already gone through so he'll see how unreasonable his retiscence is. He doesn't look convinced all the same._

" _What if..." he starts but sees her look._

" _With what ifs, John, we would never have gotten here in the first place. My decision is final. She's going."_

" _In that case, at least let me go with her for her first time," he pleads._

" _Uh, uh, no way. One, it's your day off in I don't know how long and you've promised me we'd spend the afternoon golfing and two, you need to let her breathe a little and now is as good a moment as any."_

"I'll walk you to the jumper," he says, falling into step with her as she leaves Elizabeth's office to gear up.

"John..." Elizabeth calls after him warningly.

Louise scoffs. "Don't embarrass me in front of the whole team, John," she pleads, seeing him hesitate.

"Can't I get a hug before you go?" he asks, grinning, trying to keep a brave front.

She rolls her eyes. "You'll get the hug and a souvenir if you're a good boy and let me go now."

He remains standing in the Control Room, his hands in his pockets, as she heads for the jumper bay. She's right. This must be how you feel when your little one goes to her first day of school and deep down, he knows shouldn't smother her so much if he wants her to be happy.

"Dr Weir, this is Major Harriman. We have arrived and Ms Léger is going to land the jumper in a clearing a klick away from the village. The sensors do not indicate any suspicious activity but we'll proceed cautiously, as agreed with Colonel Sheppard. We'll make contact again in two hours. Harriman out."

John hasn't left the Control Room yet and has hovered ever since Louise has left to gear up.

Elizabeth gives him a look. "See, all good. Now, let's get out of here before you grow roots," she teases him. "Come on," she insists, taking hold of his arm and leading him towards the door.

He turns towards Chuck anyway. "When they make contact again..." he starts saying.

"I'll make sure you're the first to know, Sir," the other man replies, failing poorly at hiding his mirth.

They reach the village through a path across the forest. Harriman has asked her twice already if she'd like to stop and rest for a few minutes. She scowls and taps her foot impatiently. "Major. If you do not stop mothering me right now, I'm firing you!"

He lifts his hands. "Sorry, Ma'am. But Colonel Sheppard said..."

She growls in frustration. "I don't care about what John says. I'm in charge of this mission and if you go on like this, I'm gonna get nuts! Damn! He's so gonna pay for this," she mumbles, trudging forward. Johansen gives his superior a look. _I told you so_ , he seems to be saying. Wilson sniggers. _Way to go_ , _Ma'am,_ she thinks.

The planet they're visiting is one of many on the Ancient logs. Two continents and mainly water. A small population of farmers and craftsmen. They're hoping to make friends with the population and see if they can trade for food or plants for New Athos in exchange for help of any kind. Actually, since it's their first visit, Elizabeth only expects Louise to establish the first contact – no more – and be back by the end of the day.

The first village they encounter is eerily silent and the people shy away from their presence, getting inside their farm houses quickly as they approach. They've spotted a larger one past the hill they see ahead but it's much farther on foot and Harriman advises her against going that far. "We can keep it for next time. If it's food we want, I think it's here we should start."

She nods and they approach the center of the village – mainly a square of dirt with a well in the middle. She sees fields and orchards ahead and is curious to check them out but they need to be polite and ask permission first so they go round, knocking on doors but no one answers. When they reach the edge of the village, they hear a familiar screeching sound coming from the stargate's vicinity.

"Dart on approach, fall back!" Captain Johansen yells. He's had a few run ins with the Darts already and is the first to react. They leave at a run towards the forest and the cloaked jumper.

Harriman signals for them to stop with his raised fist then listens. "The forest has eyes and ears," he tells his subordinate. The other man nods. They signal for Wilson and Louise to crouch and circle a small mound, P90s at the ready. Wilson and Louise get their P14s from their side holsters. "Please don't kill us," they hear someone whimper and they join the two marines. A mother and her two small kids are hiding in a cache probably used for hunters. The two children look OK but the mother's leg seems broken.

"Who are you?" Harriman demands, his weapon still trained on them.

Louise sighs and puts her hand on his. "Come on, it's plain to see they're no threat. Lower your gun. You're scaring them." She crouches in front of the mother. "I'm Louise," she says with a reassuring smile. "Do you know what's happening here?"

"I'm Lira and these are my two children. We ran away from the village when we heard there would be another selection today."

"What selection?" Harriman asks gruffly, looking antsy. He knows they shouldn't stay so long in the same place. They need to get going.

Louise huffs but knows he's doing what he knows best – try to keep them alive. "Yes, please, tell us. We've just got here and were supposed to visit your village but no one is around."

"Some weeks ago, a Wraith arrived in our village. He said he was not coming to cull us but needed people – the chosen ones, he called them. He comes back every so often and the elders of the village have agreed to it. They're just trying to save their own hide by letting him take whoever he wants, as long as it's not them or their families," Lira replies scornfully.

"Who is that Wraith? Do you know what he does to these people he takes?"

She shakes her head. "No idea. And I'd never seen one before but I was told they all look the same."

"Why didn't you all flee when it started happening? The stargate is not so far you can't reach it," Captain Johansen wonders.

"We are forbidden by our Ancestors to go through the gate. The place around it is sacred and no one has ever dared venture so far as even this forest. We would be shunned and then where would we go?" She looks around. "I got lost trying to flee towards it because I was afraid they might take me and then, what would happen to my children? I'm a widow and have no family left. But then I fell and hurt myself."

"Ms Léger," Harriman orders, "now we know why this Wraith is here, we need to get going. We'll come back with reinforcement if we can but we need to leave asap."

"We can't leave them here," Louise looks at him resolutely.

He nods and Johansen lifts the mother in his arms. "Come on, kids, let's get out of here," Louise tells the children with a smile. Deep inside, she's scared as hell. First time off-world and they get trapped with a Wraith. She rolls her eyes at her own stupidity. How could she possibly think – given her luck – that anything that could go wrong would not go wrong?

As they approach the jumper, they see the Dart is already there, having landed on the other side of the same convenient clearing.

"Bummer," she mutters. Murphy's law – again!

"I don't get it," Harriman whispers to Johansen. "They usually swoop through the villages and beam their victims up then leave. It seems he's going on a reconnaissance mission, like us."

"That may be so, Major," Wilson butts in. "But we're not here to get intel on the Wraith or engage combat, Sir. Colonel Sheppard said to fall back if anything happened."

"I agree with you, Wilson. But to get to the jumper, we need to get past the Dart. They're bound to see us."

Louise has taken her binoculars out as they speak and gasps. "The son of a... Sorry," she adds sheepishly, "excuse my French." Wilson sniggers. She's used to her boss's sarcasm, even in times of crisis.

"What?" Harriman asks gruffly.

She lends him the binoculars. "The Wraith," she says, pointing at the pilot who's leaving his Dart. "It's Michael!"

"All the more reason to leave asap," Harriman says.

"He looks as if he were rendez-vousing with someone, Sir," Johansen remarks and checks through his binoculars. "Yeah, clearly waiting for more people. We got to leave before that happens."

"We could leave the jumper and head to the stargate on foot," Wilson offers, "but it's like, what... ten klicks?"

"Make it fifteen," Louise corrects her. "No, we need to get inside the jumper. If we have it in the air before he gets back to his Dart, we stand a fair chance of returning to Atlantis unscathed."

She thinks hard. "I can lure him away from his ship," she says, more to herself than the others. "While I do, you get on the jumper. He won't kill me. I'm almost certain of it. I can even talk some sense into him."

Harriman growls. "You're nuts. You know that? It's out of the question."

She sneers. "Thanks for the compliment but not your call. Proceed as planned. I'll find a way back. Hey, Michael, is that you?" she calls out, leaving the cover of the trees, and walks decidely towards him.

Wilson rolls her eyes at her boss's recklessness but she knows she's given them an advantage they shouldn't waste. "Let's go," she says, grabbing the hands of the two children. Harriman has his jaw set. He should have seen it coming. Now is not the time to berate himself. His CO will do that just fine for him if they get back to Atlantis. He opens the hatch with the remote and they round the clearing cautiously to get as close to it as possible.

The Wraith has turned towards Louise and now has his back to the cloaked jumper. He looks bemused. Louise keeps on walking towards him. If she wants to get to the jumper now, she'll have to go past him anyway and make a run for it. All she thinks is "John is going to kill me for this", which makes her snigger. _If Michael doesn't kill you first!_ She's much less confident as she approaches him.

"Ms Léger?" he asks, looking at a loss for a brief moment. "What are you doing here?"

"Ah, enjoying the fresh air of the countryside, taking a stroll through the forests, ya' know, reconnecting with Mother Nature..." she drawls. She's buying them time. She sees them from the corner of her eye enter the jumper or rather lack of it as it's still cloaked. She needs them to power the jumper before she can move. She listens intently while watching him. "You look good, Michael," she says, still making small talk to give herself countenance as she approaches him.

"And you," he replies, shaking his head in disbelief. "I would never have thought we'd see each other some day in such circumstances. I'm still hoping to raid Atlantis, of course, and lay my hands on your Colonel Sheppard, torture him a little, before I kill him for what he did to me."

She's barely a couple of yards from him when she finally hears the engines power up. "That's what you don't understand, Michael. You'll never get over that frustration," she mocks him, leaving at a run, "he's my superhero and superheroes never die!"

She barely makes it – by a hair's breadth. He grabs her arm as she reaches the hatch and she knows there's no way she'll get out of it. She should have shot at him when she had the chance. But if she's honest with herself, she couldn't. Because she still sees the guy who'd come to her kitchen, looking so lost she couldn't but take him under her wing.

"Fall back to the gate," she yells at the jumper that's hovering in front of them. Michael is holding her against his chest, using her as a shield.

"I have no clean shot, Sir," she hears Johansen yell.

"I said fall back, that's an order," she yells once more and she hears the jumper whoosh towards the gate.

She crumbles against Michael, not caring what happens next. She feels dizzy and knows she's probably suffering from hypoglycemia from the run and the stress.

He roars in frustration but sits her gently on the grass. "You need to eat," he says matter of fact, and searches her pockets for sugar that he hands her with a sneer. "Eat first, I'll kill you later."

She huffs and eats the sugar cubes then reaches for her bag to get water. He's already taken her side arm but looks suspicious. She shrugs and hands him the bag. "No gun in there. I just need water."

He hands it to her then checks she's got nothing in there she could use as a weapon and hands it back to her.

"Thank you," she says with a sneer.

He crosses his arms on his chest. "I'm not your enemy, Ms Léger."

Her eyebrows shoot to her hairline. "You're kidding me, right? You've just threatened to kill my friend and myself!"

He shakes his head. "It was just a manner of speaking. As for John Sheppard, of course, it's quite a different matter."

"He's gonna come and get me, you know," she informs him. "I'm sure you don't want to face Ronon again," she adds wickedly. "You'd better let me go."

"Not so fast, my dear. I need to know what you're doing here."

"Told ya' already."

He growls and lifts her to her feet. "Drop the attitude, Louise. I'm in no mood to listen to your antics which by the way, remind me too much of your friend. He's clearly not having a good influence on you."

"I was on a trading mission. Period. I wasn't expecting to see you, Michael."

"Well, the thing is, Louise. You now know too much. You were at the wrong place at the wrong time and I can't let you go for now."

She huffs. "Why? The others have probably already returned to Atlantis and informed Dr Weir of what we've learned."

He smirks. "let's say I'm keeping you as leverage."

She sees him look towards the edge of the clearing and turn to face it. Three men are approaching them cautiously. They stop a few feet away from them and nod respectfully. They look like fairly rich farmers with their comfortable clothes and smug looks. "We have come as required, my Lord. The volunteers are waiting for you to pick them up at the usual spot," the eldest says.

They're eyeing Louise suspiciously. "We do not know this one. Is she a worshipper like us?"

Louise narrows her eyes at them. They seem so unctuous she feels like puking. Michael replies before she can. "None of your business. I'll check the goods and if I'm satisfied, you'll get to live a little longer." He tilts his head towards Louise. "Watch her. I'll be right back."

He leaves towards the path and disappears through the forest. She eyes the three men and decides to act before Michael returns. John will be there shortly and despite her show of bravery a moment ago, she doesn't want him to come rescue her and put his life at risk for her. She got into that mess. She needs to get out of it on her own. She curses under her breath for not having learned yet how to fly a Dart or she would try to steal it. All she can do is take the slip and try and reach the stargate on foot, hide there and wait until Michael has gotten tired of looking for her and has left with his cargo. She's sorry about those poor people but knows she cannot do much on her own.

She glances at the three men who are talking in hush tones and watching her from afar. They must be wondering who she really is and what Michael is doing with her. She hears one of the men snigger. They're obviously having a good time at her expense and not paying enough attention to what she's doing. She decides it's now or never and bolts in the direction of the trees, towards the stargate. She never gets there. Something hard hits her head and she feels herself falling.

She hears gunfire in the distance. At least it sounds like it because the sound is muffled as if she were wrapped in wads of cotton. Her head is hurting like hell and when she touches the back of it she feels a sticky liquid on her fingers.

"Don't move," she hears Michael order. "You have a commotion. How are you feeling?"

She moans. "Dizzy..."

"Louise, listen to me. You must not fall asleep, you hear?" he growls in frustration then she hears him talk to the men she's seen earlier. "You idiots! I told you to watch her, not kill her. My reinforcement have arrived. Get the prisoners here. I'll beam them up when I'm done with her."

He turns to Louise again who's slipping into nothingness. "Louise? Louise!"

She tries to open her eyes but her eyelids are too heavy and the numbness she feels is so good... "Let me sleep," she mumbles.

"No way," he growls. "If only your damn Colonel could stop firing at my men! I've tried to contact him but he doesn't respond. You need a doctor or you'll die. I can feel your strength slipping away."

"Well, so be it," she mumbles, trying to turn on her side to get to sleep.

He roars. "No way! You showed compassion for me. I'll not let the only one who did something good for me die." He puts his hand on her chest and she feels excruciating pain invade her whole being. She cries: "Stop it, for the love God, Michael, stop!" but he only lets go when a jumper approaches their position and starts firing around him. He removes his hand from her chest and drags her towards the trees for cover. "Had they let me finish the job, you'd be cured," he mutters angrily. "But I guess, this will have to do. We're even now, Ms Léger." She tries to sit as he successfully reaches his Dart and leaves.

"Don't move, Louise. There's blood on your head," Beckett instructs her. Lorne has parked the jumper in the clearing, letting Sheppard chase the Dart.

"I know," she says impatiently, swatting his hand. "I'm OK. Michael's fixed the commotion."

"He's what?" he cries out, circling her to take her vitals. His hand remains poised in the air. "Louise..."

"What?" she barks. She hates it when he hovers over her like a mother hen – like John.

"I think he gave you a little bit more than what you bargained for. Look." He passes her a mirror. She looks and at first sees nothing wrong, except the blood caked on her hair. But then she sees it – ker skin is smoother and those tiny wrinkles around her mouth and eyes have disappeared. She looks a few years younger – just enough so that everyone is staring though.

TBC


	36. Chapter 36

_Chapter 36_

She remains cooped up in her kitchen the next week or so, shying away from any activity that would require her to appear in public – including their Friday night.

Teyla comes round to see her and is the only one allowed in her den. The rest of the team is made of men and right now, she really doesn't need to be in the same room with them. Beckett is mothering her – insisting she should come every day to check her vitals. Rodney can't help gushing about younger she looks every time he sees her and as for Ronon, he's got that goofy smile that seems permanently plastered on his face. Only Elizabeth gives her some space, understanding she still needs to process what's happened to her.

"I hope you don't mind my foray into your realm, Louise," Teyla tells her. "I was wondering if you needed to maybe talk about what happened..."

Louise is currently kneading dough for her pies as if her life depended on it. She needs to vent off her frustration and cannot even go to the gym or shooting range to do so. She shakes her head but keeps kneading. "Not at all. Have a seat and feel free to make yourself some tea. There are sesame and poppy seed cookies on the top shelf in the pantry begging to be eaten," she tells her friend with a smile, knowing Teyla is partial to those. Teyla sets to work in silence. "Has John sent you here?" Louise asks.

Teyla gives her her trademark grin. "He could have... But no, he did not. I was just wondering when you would finally join us. We all miss you," she points out.

Louise snorts. "Yeah, sure, you betcha!" Then she adds: "Not you girls, of course," referring to Teyla, Elizabeth and Katie.

Teyla nods in understanding. "You don't like the way the boys treat you these days."

"You bet!" Louise pouts.

"They're just being admirative. Not in a discreet way, I agree, but still. You should maybe consider taking it as a compliment." She sees Louise frown.

"I don't see why I should. Suddenly, everyone is looking at me as if I were some kind of monster. I don't like it, Teyla."

"Have you experienced unpleasant remarks?" her friend worries.

"No, not at all! At least not from men. That's the thing, see. Some guys who only treated me as just the caterer suddenly decide to come and talk to me. Why not ask me on a date, while they're at it!" she grumbles.

Teyla winces. "Well, actually..."

Louise lifts her hands with dough still clinging to them and huffs. "Don't tell me it's true!"

Teyla laughs at the horrified look her friend is giving her. "What is so awful about that? Yes, I have heard a few men talking about it. It's not the end of the world, Louise. Michael did do something right after all. Take it as a chance and enjoy the gift."

Louise suddenly looks murderous. "I want names, Teyla. They're gonna regret even thinking it!"

Teyla laughs out loud. "You know what? That is exactly what John said when I mentioned it in passing this morning."

Louise sits on the bench next to her friend, looking dejected. "Oh God, that's all I needed!"

"Speaking of John," Teyla says as she finishes her tea, "are you angry at him once more?"

Louise looks up, nonplussed. "No. I mean, no more than usual..."

He's summoned her to the conference room the next day after her disastrous first mission, just to nail it he's the boss. The interview didn't go well, as she had anticipated.

" _Sit, Léger. We need to talk this out," he's ordered her as soon as she arrived._

" _No hello, no did you sleep well?" she mocks him._

 _He glares at her. "It's the subordinate I've summoned here, not the friend. So no hugs and kisses for the moment. You and I both know why you're here."_

" _Bring it on!" she sniggers. She knows she is in for a major talking-to. Not that she doesn't exactly deserve it but it was so not her fault the universe had decided to be against her that day. She's decided to suck it up._

 _He tells her about how angry he is at her for breaking the rules and putting her life in danger. She doesn't counter his arguments and waits for them to drain off then she looks at him. "Are you done yet?"_

 _He growls. "You haven't heard a thing of what I just said! You just tuned me out, like every time I say something you don't like! Damn it, Léger! It was your life out there you were risking!"_

 _She sighs. "I heard you. I have nothing to say except I agree to take the blame. Just be honest with yourself though, Colonel, I haven't done anything you wouldn't have done yourself – protect the others instead of my own life. If you didn't want me to do so, maybe you shouldn't set that kind of example," she points out._

 _He huffs in exasperation then decides he's heard enough. He points to the door. "Get out, Léger. Just get out."_

 _She pouts. "What about my trading mission with the village?"_

 _He glares at her. "For now, chef, Elizabeth and I have agreed you should remain in your kitchen. The deal is off."_

 _She stands and glares at him then stomps towards the door without a word. He lets her leave and remains seated at the table, needing to regroup his thoughts. He combs his hands through his hair tiredly._

 _She's got a way of angering him and pushing him to his limits no woman has achieved until now – not even Elizabeth when they first started working together. And the issue of her youthful looks isn't helping. Young and reckless! A deadly combination, he sniggers inwardly. If he doesn't keep her on a tighter leash, she'll soon think she's unstoppable and will inevitably get hurt in the process. And that's something he cannot allow to happen._

"John doesn't come round anymore," Louise tells her friend. "Not ever since we had that talk in the conference room."

"Maybe he does not know how to act around you..." Teyla suggests.

"He called me Léger. It says it all. He's pissed and treats me like I have the pox."

"He says you call him Colonel," Teyla points out with a raised eyebrow.

Louise sighs. "That may be true but he started it."

Teyla huffs. "Rodney says you two have to stop bickering. That it is giving him a headache. He is not far from the truth, you know."

"He's one to talk! He and John bicker all the time and no one tells them off!"

"Because it's fun to watch, Louise. Everyone knows it's just for the show. When you two fight, we all worry this time it is for good." Tyela pouts and looks at her hopefully.

"I don't see why I should be the one making amends, Teyla. I only tried to protect people."

"And he only tries to protect you. Do you not see the pattern here?"

"But that's the thing, Teyla. I don't want him to protect me. I've always taken care of myself. And I certainly don't need him bullying men on base to protect my virtue!" she groans, feeling embarrassed at the idea he might have just done so already.

"Well then, you know what you have to do! Get out of your kitchen and ignore the stares. Soon enough, people will forget you were once older."

She walks into the TV room with plates of red and yellow pepper bruchetta balanced precariously on one hand. She's holding a huge bowl of popcorn under her other arm. She's decided to hold her head high, as Teyla has suggested, and not pay attention to what people have to say. She's put on bronze powder and eyeshadow and has even used some perfume for the first time in months. Instead of the uniform she usually wears even when she's not on duty, she's dressed in jeans, boots and a long-sleeved dark blue t-shirt that is hugging her in all the right places. Give them something to stare at, she sniggers inwardly. Maybe they'll talk about her clothes and make-up and not the gift she's been granted by the enemy.

Joh stares and forgets to move to help her, too stunned by her sudden appearance. Teyla elbows him so he finally snaps out of it and walks to Louise and takes the bowl from her hands. "Good evening," she greets everyone. "Thank you, John." He gives her an embarrassed smile. They haven't really talked to each other since that talking-to, just barked at each other occasionally. Her smile mirrors his own.

Ronon stands and takes the plates from her hands. "Thank you, chef," he grins. "For the food and for joining us. We've missed you."

She goes to sit with the others on the sofa. "What are we watching tonight?"

"We haven't chosen yet," Elizabeth tells her. "Why don't you see if you find something to your liking?" She sees John hover next to them, not daring to come closer. She smirks. "Why don't you come and help her, Colonel?" she offers. He eyes his friend cautiously waiting for a rebuttal.

She pats the seat next to her. "There's plenty of room for you too, John. That's your seat, anyway," she says gently.

They're half way through the movie when both finally relax and sit back in the couch. He's settled the bowl of popcorn on his knees and at one point, she swats his hand playfully because he's eating too much of it. He glances at her with raised eyebrows. "Ready for more bickering?" he whispers in her ear, smirking, throwing her a popcorn.

Rodney reacts on cue. "I swear!" he says threateningly.

Louise dissolves into laughter and throws the popcorn back at John. He wraps one of his hands around hers to keep her from doing anything sneaky and smirks. He keeps them there, between them, on the seat, until the credits roll.

He walks Elizabeth back to the transporter. "I'm glad you've settled this disagreement, John. For eveyone's sanity," she adds sarcastically.

He chuckles but sobers up quickly. "She always keeps me on my toes, 'Lizabeth. It's getting old, ya' know."

She smiles at him leniently. "Because you don't keep her on her toes?" she counters.

He shrugs. "I guess I do. Sometimes."

"You two will find your balance. We have," she points out with a fond smile. "Good night, John."

He walks back to the TV room. She's still there, talking to that new guy she had on her short-lived team – Johansen. He's in his early thirties. A marine doubling as a paramedic. Bright blue eyes and chiseled features that make women turn round and smile.

They're animatedly discussing something as he's helping her clean the coffee table. She rewards him with a smile. Ronon is still standing in the doorway, his shoulder leaning against the frame, his arms crossed on his chest, a sneer on his face. "What's going on?" John asks with a frown, seeing there's obviously something Ronon doesn't approve of there.

"He's walked to her as soon as you left the room. To compliment her on her food. He's asked to come round sometime. His mom apparently runs a small diner."

John lifts his eyebrows. "And so?"

Ronon shakes his head. "I don't like where this is going."

John turns his attention to Louise and the marine. "And where would that be?"

"South!" Ronon mutters and leaves.

John bites his lower lip then joins them. "Sweetie," he says purposefully. "You're ready to hit the sack? I'll walk you to your quarters if you want and drop that in the kitchen," he offers, motioning to the empty dishes.

He sees Johansen wince. He had obviously intended to do just so. "Well, Louise, if Colonel Sheppard is available to help you, I'll leave him to it and will see you tomorrow," he says with a bright smile. He turns to John and nods respectfully. "Goodnight, Sir. Louise," he adds, giving her a smile that could light up the whole City.

She smiles back. "Goodnight, Chris."

John waits for him to leave the room. They're alone now. "You're calling him Chris," he remarks. She sees he's not too happy about it. She refrains from smirking.

"Jealous much?" she sniggers.

"Nah," he drawls. "I can call him Chris too if I want."

Rodney comes to him the next morning. "I need to see you in private, Sheppard." He looks worried.

"Close the door," John says. He waits for him to sit. "So, what gives?"

Rodney pouts. "It's not about work."

"Katie?" John tries to guess.

"No. Thanks God, we're good."

Rodney looks smug so John prods some more. "Second or third?" Rodney frowns, not getting it. "Base!" John elaborates, making Rodney turn beet red.

"None of your business, Sheppard!" he protests.

John laughs out loud. "So, if it's not your love life, whose is it?"

Rodney looks embarrassed. "Louise's."

John bites his bottom lip. "Rodney..."

"Don't tell me you're not worried because I know it's a lie. Look, John, I don't like the new guy. He's sneaky."

John laughs. "Don't you think you're exaggerating a bit?"

Rodney tilts his head. "Don't know, Sheppard. What do you think of a guy who has his breakfast with our cook in her kitchen?"

John frowns. "How do you know that?"

"I might have dropped by early this morning to get my own breakfast... He was already there, sitting at the table with her and obviously having a real good time."

He sees the muscle in his friend's jaw twitch characteristically. "She can date whoever she wants, McKay. She's a grown woman," John replies curtly.

"And it doesn't bother you? Or the fact he's much younger than her?" Rodney asks wickedly.

"What bothers me is not relevant in the matter, Rodney, and as for her age, she's now barely a few years older than him, as many men have noticed on base," he sneers. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do as I'm sure you do too," he adds dismissively.

TBC

 _Please, don't forget I live on feedback. Please, please, pretty please ;)_


	37. Chapter 37

_Chapter 37_

 _Spoilers for Sunday_

She's hiding in the darkest corner of her quarters, drapes drawn against the late afternoon light that is trying hard to filter through a small gap, taunting her with its brightness when all she wants to see is the void of nothingness. The hues of reds and yellows seem to be mocking her, their beauty a slur in the midth of such a tragedy.

She remembers watching sunsets with him at his mother's place and talking about the wonders of the universe and how blessed Man was to see them. But Carson is gone, killed by yet another stupid Ancient experiment gone wrong. She curses them for creating such things and not caring one bit about their consequences for the generations to come.

"Louise? It's Teyla. May I come in?" She smells the comforting aroma of the Athosian tea her friend has brought with her.

"Is it really necessary?" she whispers, her voice hoarse with the tears that are choking in her throat.

"Not if you do not mind Ronon and John barging in. They are worried about you, you know." Teyla walks towards her cautiously and sits next to her on the floor, handing her a mug. She doesn't move so the other woman forces her to wrap her hands around the warm cup. The sensation on her cold hands makes her shiver. Teyla grabs a pullover from the bed and hands it to her. Louise's eyes fill with tears again.

"He offered it to me the first time he went back to Earth," she whimpers, one of her hands folding around the soft woolen garment.

"Then you should wear it to honor him," Teyla says, helping her put in on.

She feels she's finally getting warmer. She's fled to her quarters almost immediately after hearing about the explosion and her friend's death and has stayed there ever since, not caring one bit about what she was wearing at the time. As most people on base, she'd been ordered by Dr Heightmeyer to take a day off and was forbidden to get near the kitchen by Elizabeth so she'd figured she'd sit on one of the many balconies and catch up with her reading. It was a gorgeous day and she was wearing light clothes. It was not until Teyla had put the mug in her hands that she'd realized how cold she was.

"Thank you," she says with a miserable smile. Teyla nods but doesn't try to make conversation. Louise drinks her tea slowly and it's only when she's finished it that she finds the will to speak again. "I don't know how we're going to function here without him, Teyla."

Her friend nods again. "I agree. Dr Beckett is – was – a unique soul. His kindness is legend among my people and many of our allies." She falls silent. "Louise, I know you are grieving and I see that you can barely function right now but I have come to you with one very specific purpose in mind..." She lets it hang in there, waiting for a sign that Louise is ready to listen.

Louise turns to her and watches her through teary eyes. "I'm not ready to leave this room, Teyla, if that's what you have in mind. I want to huddle here until I'm told this is just one of my many nightmares."

Teyla winces. She's going to have to be blunt. She needs to shake her out of her transe before she decides to wall herself up again. John has told her he's afraid she may do just that after what she's been through. Truth be told, they're all so stunned, even John is unsure he might find the words to get past her defenses. Hence Teyla's presence in Louise's quarters. "Louise, I am sorry, but this is exactly what I'm asking for. See, Rodney is sitting with Elizabeth in the mess hall as we speak, reproaching himself with the death of his friend. We are afraid he might snap if we don't do something..."

Louise looks up, confused. "I'm the one who's responsible for Carson's death, Teyla, not him! I'm the one who bailed out on him when he offered me to go fishing with him. And just because I'd decided I wanted to read a stupid book!" she cries out.

Teyla shakes her head. "You were just one of the people he offered, Louise. Rodney was originally supposed to go with him – not you. If you want to find someone to blame, blame us all – we all bailed out. Listen," she adds, touching her arm lightly, " I wouldn't ask if I did not know you could do it, Louise, but Rodney likes you a lot. You are one of the first people he connected to on Atlantis and he still has nothing but praise for you. And I am not even talking about the rest of team. We all need to stick together in times like these."

Louise sighs and brushes the tears from the eyes. She feels bone-tired but Teyla is right. She stands and trudges to the bathroom. "God, I look awful, Teyla." Her friend helps her splash water on her face and passes her make-up items to reduce the dark circles under her eyes and put a little color on her cheeks. "All set," Louise says with a smile that's trying to be brave. Teyla rubs her back gently and leads her out of the room.

They end up spending the evening in a corner of the mess hall. No one comes near them out of respect for their grief. Everyone is pretty stunned but it's got nothing on the flagship team and the leader of the City.

Louise sits between Rodney and John, talking softly. She's seen there was no way Rodney would listen to the voice of reason right now but no matter how tired or whumped or miserable he is, he's always hungry. She's made sure food is delivered to the table regularly. At some point, they've started talking about Carson, sharing memories and she walks to the pantry to get the shortbread she's made for their next Friday night. Rodney is on the verge of tears so John offers to play a game of cards and teaches them Scottish Bridge that Carson had showed him once they were bored and waiting for Rodney off-world. She loses track of all the rules but it keeps Rodney busy. He nibbles at the shortbread as he plays all fifteen rounds, ending up being beaten by John who elbows Louise and points his head at Rodney's scowl. He's on a sugar high from the huge amount of cookies he's eaten and majorly pissed he hasn't won but at least his eyes have lost their lifeless quality.

The ceremony in the stargate room is a nightmare. She didn't want to believe this was really happening until she sees the empty casket covered with his country's flag and hears the bagpipes. Elizabeth has deemed her too weak to bear the casket with the others as she's barely eaten or slept ever since he died, but she's allowed her to join those who will take the casket home and be at his funeral.

They take a regular army flight to Scotland and follow the hearse with their rental car all the way to his village. She's slept a little on the flight, with her head on Rodney's shoulder. He hasn't scowled once, John remarks inwardly, watching them in the rear-view mirror. She's awake and looks scared, not knowing if she can look Carson's mother in the eye. He's cautioned her against saying too much. Years of military operations have taught him how to do it but she's new to this whole world of secrecy. Rodney won't say anything. He's still too stunned for that. He's holding onto Louise's hand as if his life depended upon it. She's putting on a brave front, trying to comfort him and yet, John has rarely seen her so fragile and so close to snapping. He glances at Ronon. They've agreed not to let those two out of their sights, as Teyla has made it her personal task to remain close to Elizabeth back on Atlantis.

The wake is held in the local pub, the only place big enough to host all of his friends and relatives. It seems the whole village is there. His casket has been taken to the church next door and people go from one to the other, paying their respects to him then heading back to the warmth of the only cosy public place around. When they arrived, a thick fog had settled over the cliff and hills. Now it's raining cats and dogs but the rain is threatening to turn into snow.

John sees Louise shudder in spite of the warm clothes she's wearing – the same pullover that hasn't left her side ever since he died over tight fitting jeans and leather boots. He sees she's wearing a pretty silver cross on the long chain she usually uses for the charms she changes according to the mood of the day. He's even made a mental note of buying a couple of those for her next time he comes to Earth. Now is obviously not the right time. But that cross – he's never seen it before. He approaches her, beer in hand and tells her so.

She's swirling her tea bag in her cup absent-mindedly, watching Carson's mother talk to people she vaguely remembers. "I keep it for comfort. Believing is a bargain, John. Not believing is easy in happier times but if I don't believe, then I'll have to admit Carson and all the people I've loved and lost are indeed lost to me forever – something I'm not ready to accept."

He sits next to her on the bench. "How did it go with Carson's mother?" She's the one who took his things back to his house. They've all met her in the church and offered their condolences but she was the only one having met her before, so she'd offered to drive back with her and hand her the box of knick knacks he had in his quarters. The rest – mainly medical reviews and books – has remained on Atlantis, notwithstanding what he had left to his friends in his will.

She shrugs. "OK, I suppose. We didn't talk much. Mainly cried. Exchanged a few platitudes, I guess. What is there to say?"

"That you loved him? That we all did? That we're all going to miss him dearly?" he suggests despondently, taking a swing at his beer, avoiding her gaze.

"Yeah, that too!" she laughs humorlessly. "I might have mentioned it..." She takes the beer from his hand and the bottle almost reaches her lips – almost – because he grabs it back with a growl and sets it firmly on the table away from her.

"Watcha doin'?" he barks, his angry look intent on her.

She shrugs despondently. "It's just a beer, John, and I need it."

"The hell you don't!" he growls, taking hold of her arm a little too hard, leaving bruises there, no doubt. She yelps but he ignores her and drags her towards Ronon. "Buddy, we need to leave, asap," he says, tilting his head at Louise who's currently scowling and trying to free herself from his iron grip. Ronon takes one look at the odd couple in front of him and nods.

"You take care of Rodney, OK? I don't think it's safe for Louise to come back here while the party is in full swing," John adds, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Got it, Sheppard."

"Let him eat to his heart's content and drink a little. Don't let him get plastered though. He becomes too chatty when he does and we sure don't want that," John advises him before heading towards Mrs Beckett, Louise in toe. She's abandoned all hope of escaping him and is just following the lead. "Ma'am, I'm sorry but Louise is not feeling well and I need to get her back to the hotel. We'll see you in the morning for the funeral," he apologizes. He hopes she won't ask for any details.

She nods and wraps Louise in her arms. "You've got a good friend there, Ms Léger. He's a keeper. I saw what he just did. It would have been much easier to indulge you. Try to rest," she adds as she hands them a tin box full of various cookies. "I know you haven't had time to eat much," she tells John with a smile. "Take good care of her."

He nods, still processing the meaning of her words to Louise. Obviously, she knows. "Thank you, Ma'am. Ronon and Dr McKay are staying. Ask them. They have plenty of stories to tell you about your son," he says with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. He feels suddenly drained and pushes Louise towards the exit not too gently. "Get your coat. I'll tuck you in and then we'll talk." She bows her head, ashamed she's putting him through all this when he himself is grieving.

They walk in silence to the edge of the village. The rain has indeed turned into snow but the roads are still wet, making the place look dreary in the lights of the lamp posts. She's holding the box under her arm, glancing at him from time to time but he refuses to make eye contact, his hands tucked into the pockets of his pants. His jaw is set and she knows she's in trouble, big time. Not that she doesn't deserve it but still – she hates it when they fight. Now Carson is not there to hold her hand and tell her everything is gonna be all right for them all, it's only her and John, and she's gotten on his wrong side, again. She wraps her hand around his elbow, trying to connect somehow. He shrugs her off impatiently. She gasps. He's never pushed her away. He trains his gaze on her, still looking murderous. "Give me a moment, Louise. I'm still too angry to trust myself around you." She sighs and walks the rest of the way with her head bent and her heart in her throat.

He does as he told her – orders her to get ready and leaves her barely a few minutes before he returns, having changed into sweats. He settles in the armchair next to the bed. "Get in bed," he orders her.

"John..." she pleads.

"I said, get in bed," he repeats, insisting on each word. She cringes but does as ordered.

"I'm sorry..." she tentatively says as she props herself against the pillows.

"You'd rather be!" he gruffly retorts.

"Look, John. I made a mistake..."

"Huge one. Major blunder. Yeah, you did!" he interrupts, not too kindly.

"All right. I got it! No need to nail it. I knew it was one before I even made it, damn it!" she cries out, aggravated.

"But you would have proceeded had I not stopped you, Louise," he points out. She falls silent. It enrages him. "Say it, damn it! At least, have the decency to recognize it!"

"I said I was sorry! What else do you want me to say?" Tears of frustration well up in her eyes. "How much more humiliation do you want me to take before you're satisfied, John?"

He trains his cold glare on her. "I'm sorry doesn't even begin to amend for what you almost did. I've already lost a friend this week. There's no way I'll risk losing you, Louise. You cannot taste alcohol again. Period. I will not let you relapse. Now Beckett is gone, I'm responsible for your well-being. I know you think you're a big girl but right now, I'm gonna treat you as a damn unruly teenager if I have to."

She sighs, exhausted by the fight. "You're not my father and you're not my husband either, John. I won't relapse but that will be my decision, not yours. You have no say in the matter."

He tilts his head to the side, a dangerous edge in his hazel eyes. "That's where you're wrong, sweetie. I do. I'll always do. That suicidal tendency you have, I promise you you're going to get rid of it, asap, or so help me God, I'll put you in the brig until you come to your senses! I need you alive and I need you happy – for my own sanity, if any."

She shakes her head, tears clinging to her eyelashes because she refuses to let them fall. "I can't. I can't be happy. The universe is screaming at me it's not for me, don't you see? I've lost so much already! I didn't want any of this. When I came to Atlantis, it was to hide from the world, not make friends and lose them! I wish... I wish you'd never come to my kitchen that day."

He shakes his head, appalled. "You don't mean that, Louise. You can't!" He comes to sit on the bed next to her and shakes her, grabbing her shoulders. "No man is an island, Louise. And no woman either! We've had this conversation before. I thought we were past that point. It seems with you it's always back to square one over and over again – a f** groundhog day!" he growls in frustration.

She looks at him in alarm, seeing him so wound up. He's right though. She knows it, even though she'd give everything now to go back in time and never have come to Atlantis and met those she seems deemed to lose one after the other. He lets go of her and grabs the remote control then sits next to her on the bed. "What are you doing?" she asks.

He shrugs. "You're a slow walker. It'll take time for your stubborn brain to accept that I'm here to stay and so are you. In the meantime, I feel like watching TV and eating cookies. Feel free to join me if you like."

"You're not gonna stay here all night?" she asks in dismay.

"Oh, yeah! I'll make sure you get a goodnight's sleep as Carson's mother instructed us. We have a hell of a day ahead of us, kiddo, and we both need our beauty sleep," he sniggers, his eyes intent on the screen.

They bury him as the fog is lifting, the sun shyly making an appearance as the bagpipes sound the Amazing Grace. She's huddled between her three friends, Ronon behind her, his hands on her shoulders, Rodney and John on each side, holding hands with her. She'd never seen John in his dress blues before. From the looks he gets afterwards at the luncheon in the church hall, she's not the only to stare.

Mrs Beckett comes to her side with a plate in hand and a fond smile on her wrinkled face. "It's a very handsome friend you have here, my dear," she teases her gently, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah, I sometimes feel like the ugly duckling next to him," she retorts with a tinge of sarcasm.

Ma gives her a look. "I think you haven't seen how he looks at you or you wouldn't feel so despondent. He only has eyes for you, to every woman's dismay, I might add."

Louise blushes but scoffs. "It's only because he's afraid I might feel tempted to drink again, Ma."

The other woman chuckles. "There are none so blind as those who will not see."

Louise doesn't have the time to answer her that she suspects his interest lies in a tall, dark-haired diplomat as John gets to her side and loosely wraps his arm around her shoulders. "Sweetie, I'm afraid we need to head back to the airport."

Ma gives her a look that says "I told you so", making Louise roll her eyes, and shakes John's hand. "Take good care of this young lady here, Colonel, and come any time you want. My son's friends will always be welcome here."

He nods and drops a light kiss on her cheek. "We will, Ma'am."

TBC

 _I apologize for not broaching on the subject of Louise's youthful looks in this chapter. I surmised that being grief-stricken as she is, she must not look very different from what she looked like when she first met Mrs Beckett so the older lady would not have really noticed._

 _Feedback, feedback, feedback... ;)  
_

 _Special thanks to LP Cloud for favoriting and also encouraging me with your kind words and to Guest 64 for always being there for me and giving me useful feedback on how the story is perceived. You are an awesome "beta" reader :)_


	38. Chapter 38

_Chapter 38_

 _Spoiler for First Strike and Adrift/ end of season 3_

 _Alright, hang on tight, you're in for a few more emotional roller coasters but I promise you'll soon know a lot more about Louise too and when we get there, I'll start publishing the prequel as well (which is simply called Louise)._

 _On with the show._

She's there when Keller steers John away from the others in the infirmary and announces Elizabeth will never be the same again, if ever she wakes up. She sees his look of despair. He's looked away, towards the computer screens, but his gaze is void of emotions, as if his heart was shutting down.

She ponders letting them know she's there but there's no time for it. In the last twenty-four hours, the situation has gone from bad to worse and John is in charge now and doesn't have enough time to do everything. She needs not add to his burden.

She waits for him to leave before she approaches Elizabeth's bed. How can she be lying there, dying, when only two days ago, they were having coffee together in her office, waiting for John, Rodney and Colonel Ellis to come home?

 _Elizabeth is worried that they have made a hasty decision that they might pay dearly. Louise has seen how difficult the decision to follow Ellis' orders has been for John. He hates not being in synch with his boss. They've found a balance and it's the first time in years he has to do something she doesn't agree with._

 _She's prepared a tray for Elizabeth, knowing she won't leave her office until she's heard of the success of their mission. On second thought, she's added a mug of coffee for herself. Elizabeth seems grateful for the company. Being the leader, she's often very lonely. By now, Louise has gotten the hang of it – when to be her friend and when to make herself scarce. They talk a lot that day – more than they probably ever have before. Little do they know it will be the last time._

She feels useless there. They're spread thin both in the infirmary and in the Control Room and she can't be of any help. She wanders aimlessly until she hears the order that is given to any personnel with the Ancient gene to get to the jumper bay. She gets there as John is explaining the task at hand. He glances at her when the medic tech protests he has never fired a live drone. Most of them have only logged a few hours on the jumpers and she knows for a fact most were pretty relunctant to fly them in the first place. Now, they need to stay in formation and make a safe path for Atlantis or else. She nods at John and goes to see them all before they board the jumpers, encouraging them. John and herself lag behind. "Louise, I need you and Rodney to be my wingmen, make sure no one strays." She nods silently and breathes out. "There'll be time enough to mourn if we reach our new home," he says with a sad smile, knowing what's on her mind. She nods and gives him a hug he returns briefly before they board their jumpers.

"You let me fly the jumper," she protests when the team leaves with Elizabeth to retrieve a ZPM. "It was dangerous. So why can't I come now?" She's pissed. One, because she was not allowed to see Elizabeth when they reactivated her nanites and she was finally awake. And two, because he's babying her again. "John," she pleads, "I can help. I can power systems at a distance too. It could come in handy. Please, let me come with you."

He barely registers her presence as they're making their way to the jumper. She has to run to keep up with his pace. He snaps at her. "I said no!"

She turns to Elizabeth as her last resort. "Ma'am, please, take me with you."

Elizabeth smiles sadly at her. "It's not my call anymore, Louise. John's in charge now."

She remains standing there, her arms at her sides, too stunned by the hard truth that's finally hitting her like a ton of bricks. Elizabeth will never be the same, she reminds herself. She'll be shunned and maybe removed from Atlantis altogether. "Be safe," she whispers.

She's not allowed into the Control Room until they finally reach their new home. She's so anguished, she walks to the infirmary and asks to help – anything will do – so Jennifer gives her simple tasks to perform to keep her mind off her worries. She's then told she can go back to her kitchen now the ZPM is allowing the whole City to be shielded. She simply doesn't have the heart to leave the comfort of being around people and realizes how different she is from the person who stepped on Atlantis three years ago.

She glances at Chris, who is cleaning medical equipment. He glances briefly towards her as well and tries to look reassuring. It's the first time she sees him in weeks, actually since Teyla has suggested his interest in her kitchen might be more for the cook herself than the place or her cooking. When she finally found the nerve to confront him about it, he didn't bother to deny it and ever since that time, she's purposefully evaded him.

She ponders going to see him to apologize for being so rude but her mind is on the flagship team and them alone. She knows for a fact they've returned with a ZPM because the City is flying again and they've been told they've chosen a safe planet on which they'll land shortly. She hasn't heard from Elizabeth though. All she knows is John has come back safely as he's in the Chair.

She calls the Control Room and offers to help but is told once more they have it covered. Colonel Sheppard has ordered for her to stand down for the time being. She huffs, dejected. Once more, he's protecting her, not wanting to gamble with her health. Once more, she has no say in what should only be her call.

She's finally allowed to reach the Control Room after they have landed the City and everyone is accounted for. She sees Colonel Carter and John devising on the balcony. Elizabeth is nowhere to be seen. Colonel Carter nods at John and heads inside. She gives Louise a sad smile and shakes hands. "My CO is quite fond of you and your cooking. I'm sorry we don't have time to chat, Ms Léger. I need to gate back," she elaborates, seeing Louise's puzzled look. She tilts her head towards John who is still gazing at the two moons of their new world. "He's gonna need his friends. I'm counting on you."

Louise shakes her head. "I don't understand, Ma'am. What's going on?"

Carter realizes she's been kept out of the loop. "I'm sorry. I thought you knew..."

Louise has listened to Carter intently, not interrupting her once. The other woman looks sorry for her. Louise suddenly seems lost. "You don't seem well," Carter tells her, seeing her blanch. "Maybe you should sit down."

Louise shakes her head. "It's OK, Ma'am. I'll survive. If you'll excuse me..." Carter nods and watches Louise head towards the balcony doors. Those two must be feeling like orphans. They need to stick together.

Sam heads to the Control Room. "Dial the gate. I need to return to the SGC."

John feels her presence before he hears her strained voice. "How could you leave her there, all alone?" Louise accuses him. "You need to go back now."

He turns and walks to her, a look of hurt in his eyes. "I did everything I could. We all did. She ordered us to leave."

"And you should have ignored her orders, damn it! She's your friend!" she yells at him, tears clinging to her eyelashes.

"Louise," he says pleadingly. "Don't add to my guilt. I'm begging you. She made sure the City would be safe and sound. There was no other way."

She watches him for an eternity, wavering, then she remembers Carter's words. She steps forward and wraps her arms around him, clinging to him as he returns the favor. "Promise we'll find her," she whimpers against his chest.

He sighs. "I can't make promises I might not be able to keep, Louise. But I promise you one thing. We'll keep looking."

She finally goes to bed around midnight, having doubled and tripled-checked what she needs to serve in the morning as well as what's left of her stocks. The Apollo is in orbit and letting people return to the City so she has an army to feed and will soon need more than what the Apollo has in its holds to feed both the inhabitants of the City and the ship's entire crew if they're staying longer than usual. That worries her – like in the first weeks on their arrival in the City – and she ponders going to see John about it but he must be exhausted and have too much on his mind. She checks with Chuck nevertheless. He tells her the temporary leader has headed to his quarters telling them to disturb him only in the event of an invasion.

She opts out of bothering him though she wants nothing more than the comfort of his presence. She's too wound up to go to bed so she walks aimlessly in the corridors, trying to tire herself before she heads to her room. Her feet lead her to Chris's quarters. He told her once where he resides. She thinks of how considerate he's always been with her and how unfriendly she's been to him in return. After today, after losing yet another friend, she realizes once more she must stop keeping people at arms' length – life is short and who knows when you'll see a person again.

She hesitates in front of his door. He's probably asleep by now. She turns to leave when she sees him round the corner of the corridor. He smiles fondly at her. "Hey, watcha doin' here?"

She shrugs. "I was coming to see if you were here... to apologize." She looks sheepish and shuffles her feet uncomfortably. She's never been good at this all social thing. She's definitely not a people person.

He approaches her, still smiling. "You really don't need to, Louise. I should be the one. I kind of invaded your space and imagined things. I should have known you didn't need the attention." He rubs her arm affectionately.

She pouts, tears clinging to her eyes. "You were being very sweet and I was being an ass, you mean."

"Hey," he says softly, pulling her gently towards him, "what's wrong? Is it Dr Weir?"

She nods quietly, letting her tears fall freely, then breathes out, trying to calm down. "I'm sorry. I'm a mess right now. I shouldn't have come."

He pulls her even closer and wraps his arms around her. "It's OK. It's gonna be OK," he whispers in her hair, rubbing circles on her back. She breathes in and lets herself relax. Just a moment, she tells herself. It feels so good being in the arms of a man. Of course, there's John, and Rodney and Ronon and if she's fair, she knows she can get hugs from them whenever she needs one. But it's not the same. Because they're just friends. And there, in Chris' arms, she suddenly thinks about the possibility of more. She knows this is stupid and terribly wrong and that she should pull away but that's when he pulls her closer and she can smell his scent she's come to like whenever he sat next to her in the kitchen. And that's when she feels his strong arms around her. Her mind goes blank and she cuddles against him, sealing her fate.

"Let me take care of you," he whispers in her ear, trailing kisses down her neck. He lifts her chin gently with his forefinger and she gets lost in his bright blue eyes. "Please?" he adds, dropping a kiss on her lips then looking into her eyes. It's been so long and she's been so lonely... She closes her eyes and wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He kisses her again and it promises so much more, she loses track of where she is and leans in, demanding more, moaning against his lips. He chuckles. "Let's get to my quarters, sweetheart. I think it's gonna take some time to quench that thirst. Better make ourselves comfortable." He opens the door and leads her inside, still kissing her, his hands caressing her back, up and down, massaging it until she completely relaxes against him.

When they finally pull apart, breathless, he makes her sit on the side of the bed and crouches in front of her. "Louise," he says, taking her hands in his, "I need you to make sure this is what you want. Lord knows I want you but I don't want to take advantage of you. I know you're hurting and it's probably the only reason that brought you here."

She smiles sadly. "You mean I'm taking advantage of you then."

He chuckles and gives her his trademark Chesshire grin, the one that makes most of the girls on base swoon. "Yeah, that's exactly what I mean. And note that I'm not complaining. Quite the contrary. I just want you to know if that's what you want, I'll be most happy to hold you tonight and make you lose that pain I see in your eyes." She nods. "Is that a yes, Louise?" he asks hopefully.

She nods again and he grins once more. "Just one more thing though," he adds, looking into her eyes, "we stop whenever you say stop, OK?"

She smiles. "I'm not a little girl anymore, Chris. I know the rules. It's good to know you're a gentleman but, to be honest, I don't think I'll want to stop." She's charmed by his gentle ways and lulled by the promise of sweetness and comfort. She knows she's not being sensible – quite like when she was tempted to share John's beer. But John is not there to stop her tonight. And John doesn't have to know.

She wakes up, knowing she's not in her room, feeling the comfort of strong arms around her and a broad chest flush against her back. She breathes in and feels feathery kisses on her nape. "Morning, beautiful. Slept well?" he whispers in her ear and keeps on exploring her shoulder with kisses.

"Morning," she mumbles, still numb from the dreamless night. "What time is it?"

"Early enough for morning sex," he informs her smugly and she can't help giggling. She had not planned to fall asleep. Actually, she had not planned anything at all. That's why she fell asleep, feeling utterly relaxed some hours earlier. She had not planned this but it sure feels wonderful to wake up in his arms. "What do you think?" he asks hopefully.

She snorts. "You're impossible!"

"Is that a yes?" he prods, tickling her waist, making her squirm.

"Yes! But then I have to leave, Chris. I'm supposed to start my shift at five thirty."

He huffs. "Plenty of time! Besides, I know a few tricks now. I know how to turn you on," he adds wickedly in her ear, making her blush.

She turns in his arms. "Don't get carried away. I don't want to explain why I'm late for work."

He wraps one arm around her waist and pulls her flush to him, making her gasp. "Oh, God, Louise, I love that sound." She blushes again, remembering how smug he looked last night for making her do just that, as well as moan and ask for more. He kisses her and once he's started, she actually doesn't care if she gets to work at all that day.

TBC

 _Well, what do ya' think?_


	39. Chapter 39

_Chapter 39_

 _Dear readers, I hope I didn't shock you with the last chapter. See, Louise is only human, thus flawed, and Captain Johansen is really sweet. How John is going to react? Find out in this chapter and the following. Also a little bit more insight into her past._

 _This chapter contains one of my favorite recipes (photos on Tumblr)_

She does get to work on time though. Maybe a little flustered and breathless from running back to her room to get a quick shower and change but once she's at her workstation, she gets into the motion and puts it out of her mind. She's never had a one-night stand before, so she'd better not think about it – too unsettling.

John drops by around nine. She's sitting at the table in the kitchen with a couple of cookbooks opened in front of her. He looks tired and in dire need of a friend and coffee. He plops down on the bench next to her and gives her a loose hug and a kiss on her head. She smiles at him and gets up to fix him a plate that she sets in front of him with a mug of steaming coffee and a tall glass of orange juice. He chuckles. "It's just me, you know. Not Ronon!"

She shrugs. "Force of habit, sorry."

He starts eating but peaks absent-mindedly at the book opened in front of her. The page is an entry on Elizabeth's favorite dishes. He points to it with his fork. "Did you just write that?"

She sees him flinch. "I did, yes. I'm sorry," she says, closing the book.

He stops her with a hand on hers. "No, don't. Actually, it's quite comforting to know someone is writing something about her that's not a mission report. What have you got in there?"

She smiles. "Just recipes and anecdotes and photos of people I've known. I like to remember them through their favorite recipes," she explains. "I know it's childish."

He shakes his head. "No, it's not." He reopens the book and looks at the title and the foreword she's written. He doesn't say a thing but it pulls at his heart. He's curious to see more and his plate is forgotten. He flips through pages aimlessly, seeing Ford and Beckett but also living people like his whole team including himself. She's pasted a photo of him she's obviously taken off-world. He's wearing his black uniform and looking deceptively cool, his hands in his pockets, his P90 hanging from his vest. "I didn't know you'd taken that photo."

"I think that's my favorite. It's just so you," she shrugs, embarrassed.

He chooses not to tease her about it and is flipping backwards through the book now. "Who's that guy?" he asks, pointing at a man with a goofy smile on his face who looks in his sixties.

"My uncle. He died the same year I graduated. He loved food. The recipe in there is the one he used to make for family reunion. Ambrosia Ring – great dessert. Lots of calories," she adds with a smile.

"Would you make it?"

"Sure, if you want."

He nods and keeps on reading. "That's your aunt's recipe," he points out, reading another page. "You make those for the Athosian kids." She nods, happy to see he remembered, her mind lost in her memories, not seeing him turn another page until it's too late. "Hey, that's a cute kid!" He's looking at the photo of a brown-eyed and brown-haired kid who must not be more than five. "Gabriel's Chestnut Spread and Chocolate Pie... That sounds enticing!" He turns to her and sees her looking straight ahead, her eyes lost in the distance. "Louise? Who's that kid?"

She closes the book slowly and takes it from his hands. "A child I used to know."

She's saved from making any more conversation because the doors woosh open and Chris strolls in, interrupting them. "Oh, hi, Sir. Didn't know you were here," he says, saluting his CO. John signals tiredly for him to stand at ease. Chris nods and walks past him towards Louise. He trails a hand on her shoulders and drops a kiss on her head before she has the time to react. "Hey, sweetheart. I'm not starting my shift until noon so I figured I'd drop by and show you how to make my mom's crawfish pie you asked about..."

Louise cringes but Chris doesn't seem to register it. He sees his CO tense though and his hand pauses on Louise's back. "I mean, that is... if you don't mind, Sir?"

John stands up rigidly, his eyes suddenly very cold. "I don't see why I'd mind, Captain. You said it yourself – you're not on duty. I'll be seeing you at ten, for the briefing. Now, if you'll excuse me..." He turns towards Louise, glaring at her, as he leaves. "Léger, thanks for breakfast. Good day to you two."

Chris drops by at her quarters after the meeting. "We're going to explore the planet with the jumpers," he says excitedly, looking like a kid on Christmas Eve. "And Colonel Sheppard said when we're done, Dr McKay is already preparing a lists of planets in the area they want to check out. I think our work is cut out for us!"

"I'm going?" she asks, her eyes lighting up.

He looks contrite. "No, Louise, I'm sorry. It's not what I meant... The military are. For the time being, Colonel Sheppard is only taking those civilians he absolutely needs."

She stomps out of her quarters without so much as a warning, heading for the cafeteria where she knows he'll be having his second or third coffee of the day.

Chris runs after her. He rounds her and makes her stop. "Wait! I wouldn't go and see him now if I were you."

"Why?" she barks, aggravated.

He winces. "I felt like he was kind of pissed." She winces too, flushing. "You know why?" he insists.

She shrugs. "I didn't say anything earlier but calling me sweetheart was not one of your best moves... And I'm not even talking about your hand on my back or your kiss."

"Oh! Sorry," he says sheepishly. "I didn't know we needed to keep it a secret. You're single. I'm single. And after the whole Michael fiasco, he's made it clear we'd not likely be on the same team again, so what's the big deal?"

"Thing is, Chris, John is a little protective when it comes to his woman friends. I never meant to tell him – about what happened last night..." She looks away. She never meant for it to be more than a one-night stand or fling at the most. Now, he's acting as if the whole thing were settled. The luck she has! Most girls would kill to be with him. She shakes her head dismissively.

He crosses his arms on his chest and leans towards her, peering into her eyes, his own suddenly stormy. "You're telling me I'm just a one-night stand because John Sheppard wouldn't approve of our being an item or are you telling me I was just not up to your standards?"

She sighs and rubs her temples. "Chris, I'm tired and you're not helping here. No, I guess, John will not approve of anyone getting near me actually, because the guys always think I need protection. Probably my petite frame..." she adds, rolling her eyes. "And of course, I enjoyed last night – and this morning," she adds with a smile. "I'm just not sure it's a good thing. You're young and I'm really older and it's gonna be frowned upon..."

He stops her with a searing kiss, his hands on either side of her head and she feels herself spinning out of control. She wraps her arms around his neck and leans in, sighing with content. "See, not too young to make you ask for more and not too old to make me want much, much more than this, Louise," he whispers in her ear, making her shiver. "And I don't give a damn shit about whatever people think – not even my CO." He kisses her forehead gently. "Listen. I need to gear up. I'd just dropped by to keep you in the loop. See you tonight." She remains standing there in the middle of the corridor, thinking about the mess she's made. And if she's correct, things are soon going to get worse.

And they do. Ronon gives her a cold stare when he comes for dinner that night. Rodney doesn't even pretend not to know and walks up to her, embarrassing her in front of everyone by telling her he does not approve at all and what went through her thick head of hers? Teyla pouts and wraps her arm around her shoulders, steering her towards the balcony. John has not even made an appearance. She'd hoped to see him and talk to him about the food supplies. She sees Lorne ask Wilson for a tray for his boss. Teyla confirms he's in a foul mood.

"I need to talk to him, Teyla. He's not giving me the cold shoulder, no way. And for what? I'm a big girl. I know what I'm doing..." Teyla looks doubtful. "Well, yeah, I'm supposed to. God," she groans, slapping her hands on the cold railing of the balcony. "What was I thinking?!"

Her friend chuckles. "You put life over death, my friend. It is not such a bad thing. Is he such a bad lover?" she asks her with a smirk, making Louise turn beet red. She only shakes her head. Teyla laughs. "Well, then, I really do not see what the problem is."

"Problem is, Teyla, everyone is going to judge us. And he's not very discreet, ya' know. He's acting like a girl, for God's sake! Thinking I'm already for granted because we spent one night together!"

"Well then, if it is a problem, why don't you tell him so. I am sure he can understand you do not want to advertise it to the whole base," her friend offers, looking sorry for her.

"I guess I could try and make that clear. Look, I don't want us to be together. I like him – I do. It's just I don't want us to be an item. I'm not ready for that. But it's not even the issue. John's pissed, Ronon looks murderous and Rodney is scornful. I can't fight them all if they show a front. They're impossible taken separately so one can only imagine what it will look like if they gang up against me!" she adds sarcastically.

Teyla smiles at her antics. "Louise. They love you. They will adapt, for your own good – whatever you decide."

Chris comes round that night, as expected, after she's returned to her quarters. She's relunctant to let him in. She doesn't want him to entertain the possibility she's letting him in her life as well as in her room.

"Look," she says, standing in the doorway. "I think we need to talk."

He turns pale. "Louise..."

She lifts her hand decidedly. "Whatever you have to say will have to wait. Let me go first, please. I think we got on the wrong foot here. First, I want to apologize. I should never have come to you but what's done is done. I like you – a lot. Even before today. You're smart and handsome and gentle – probably everything a girl needs. Except I'm not a girl anymore. To be honest, I had fun last night and I'd gladly make it a staple in my life, including the falling asleep in your arms part." He looks smug and a little reassured. She's not kicking him out – yet. "But I need us to remain discreet – for many reasons..."

"So, if I get it right, you want us to be friends with benefits, as long as we just look like friends in public?" He looks non-committal. She'd prefer him to yell at her and leave than be so calm.

"Not exactly. I just don't want you to advertise it, brag about it ..." She knows guys. They usually need to do such things.

"So... If I comply – am a good boy, don't tell everyone you're my girl – you'll be my girl all the same?" he asks, grinning.

She shakes her head. "You're impossible!"

He bows. "Thank you, my lady. I'll take that as a compliment. Now, may I come in? 'Cuz, ya' know, I spent my day woolgathering and I'm kind of hoping you'll help me make some of those dreams come true..."

TBC

 _Extract from Louise's Cookbook (on Tumblr: letseasoneverythingwithlove. You need not log in. Take a look at it if, like Louise and myself, you love food.)_

 _Madeleine's French Butter Cookies_

 _My aunt used to make these when I was a kid. It's one of my fondest memories and like Proust's own little madeleines, those shell-shaped, melt-in-your mouth cookies bring me back to happier times._

 _The Athosian kids love them too, as does Rodney. I might have forgotten to tell him there's a little bit of lemon in it!_

 _For about 16 cookies, you'll need:_

 _one large egg_

 _1/6 cup sugar_

 _1/6 cup flour_

 _3 tbsp butter, melted and cooled_

 _2 tsp lemon juice (and half the zest of a lemon)_

 _1 tsp baking powder_

 _2 pinches baking soda_

 _Mix the egg and sugar until light and fluffy. Add the butter and whisk until smooth and shiny then add the juice and zest. Finish with the dry ingredients._

 _Fill the shell-shaped moulds but not to the brim. Cook 8 to 10 mns. Cool 10 mn on a rack. Eat fresh._


	40. Chapter 40

_Chapter 40_

At first she thought it would come to pass and they would get used to it – to him – maybe even accept him in their group, allow him to join their Friday nights, but never had she thought she would be shunned for dating him.

For a couple of months, Sheppard is in charge of the City pending the decision of the IOA. He knows he's on the shorter list but he can't wait to be released of his temporary duties and return to active duty on the missions. He tells Ronon about it. He's bored sick of staying in Elizabeth's office and reading mission reports. "Lucky bastards," he growls, handing Lorne's most recent report to his buddy across the desk.

In the first few days, they've explored the planet but it's inhabited and there's not much there. They need to find an alpha site and they need to get new allies in this part of the galaxy so basically all military personnel are working round the clock. John hates it he has to stay on base instead of going with his team. Ronon, McKay and Teyla keep going off-world, without him.

Ronon chuckles. "So, if I get that right, all you really want is not be Atlantis' next leader?"

Sheppard reclines in his chair and sighs. "That's right. It's just I'm worried about who they might send to replace 'Lizabeth. If all it takes is me to get the job so some arrogant big brass doesn't take it over and pisses us off then I'll do it but don't ask me to like it." He winces at the thought he might have to forego his team and put someone else in charge.

"Listen, buddy. Maybe they'll send someone good, but in the meantime, why don't you appoint someone to help us out?"

"You mean like a new leader? I can't really spare anyone from the other teams, ya' know." Sheppard looks embarrassed. This whole management thing is giving him headaches.

"Nope. We can manage. It's just it would be good to have one more person with us. Maybe if you sent Louise with us, you know, we could kill two birds with one stone – look for ZPMs and make a few more friends in this corner of the galaxy. She's pretty good with negociations." Ronon looks hopeful.

Sheppard shakes his head in disbelief. "I don't get it, Ronon. I thought we had agreed she was not going anywhere at the moment. She kind of blew it on her first day. Who can tell what she'll do if she's on the team? She'll probably convince you guys to do stupid things and I really don't have time for that right now."

"You're pissed at her, right?" Ronon lifts his eyebrows, waiting for Sheppard to spit it out. John stares at him looking nonplussed so he elaborates. "For dating that Johansen guy..."

John doesn't even bother to deny. "Ain't ya'?" he barks back.

Ronon shrugs. "Yeah. She's making a huge mistake." He falls silent, thinking. "You're shunning her?"

John shrugs. He doesn't like to talk about it, doesn't like to think about it. At least that's one thing he's grateful for about his temporary position – hiding out in the Control Room so he doesn't have to see them together. "I'm waiting for this fling to pass. She'll come to her senses soon enough."

"So you're shunning her," Ronon concludes.

John rolls his eyes but doesn't answer.

Carter notices it the very first day she arrives – something has changed between her 2IC and their cook. She doesn't know much about Louise, apart from what Jack has told her and it's good enough for her. She trusts his judgment so when Jack says she's a good person, she believes him. She read her file. It boggles her mind someone like her could be found in a place like this.

High school teacher, never travelled before, never so much as a parking ticket in her life. Then her life turns into a nightmare and she ups and leaves, ends up on the other side of the Atlantic and next thing on her file, she's head of the food service on the Atlantis expedition. But Jack says the little cook is right where she belongs so Carter doesn't question it.

But then she starts conducting interviews with John by her side to assist her in the conference room. Not formal ones. Just to get to know her staff. And she sees it. How John tenses when she enters the room. How guilty and ill-at-ease she looks. But it's not Sam who makes her feel that way. That, she's sure of because Louise is pretty open with her, welcoming her to Atlantis with a smile, a cup of coffee and apple cinnamon muffins she's brought for her. No. It's John who is the root of her unease. Louise doesn't even have time to sit that John excuses himself and leaves the room only to return when Louise's gone, making her cringe when he passes her on his way out.

"Is there a problem with our cook?" Sam asks him at the end of the day. Everything seems to run smoothly here, except for that little hitch. Of course, they have some pretty complex personalities around base – some of them being far from endearing, others downright creepy in a geeky way – but exceptional situations call for exceptional people and she's used to it. What she doesn't want on base is a tensed relationship that might lead to further issues.

He shakes his head. "Uh, uh, no, Ma'am. No problem." He looks away, his jaw twitching.

"Colonel. I can't run that base if you're hiding something from me. If need be, I'll do my own investigation and bring a shrink into the process," she warns him and by now, he knows it's no empty threat.

He's worked with her before, though very briefly, and he knows she's got the full support of her former CO. The approval of the IOA means nothing to him but O'Neill's is a different matter. He knows whatever is in store for them, she'll be a damn good leader for the City. She doesn't need to earn his trust. He sure needs to earn hers. "We're kind of having an argument, Ma'am. Nothing professional. I can assure you it won't be a problem."

She tilts her head and looks at him intently. "I hope not, Colonel. Because if it gets out of hand, I will have to make a choice and let one of you go. And I already know who's indispensable to this expedition."

On leaving her office he realizes he cannot let this happen. It would not be fair to her but truth be told, it would not be to him either. He needs her here with him, especially these days. He misses Elizabeth and on top of it all, even Teyla is acting weird with him.

He sighs and decides it's been going on for too long. Carter is right. They need to stick together, not look for more trouble than they already have. He walks to the kitchen which is empty at that time. When Buckley left, she moved her things back to her former quarters. He wishes she hadn't. He's told her so several times. She's isolated from everyone here – again – which suits her down to the ground, but he much prefered when she was closer to his own quarters.

Her door is open. She's not there. He taps his headset and calls her. "Louise? It's John. Where are you?"

She startles at the sound of his voice. They have not so much as greeted each other in weeks. She's down in the storage area, assessing her supplies, worrying about what she'll soon need to replenish. Chris is helping her. "I'm down in the storage area, Colonel," she answers curtly, seeing Chris' look. He's not happy John is seeking her out. Actually, she suspects him of liking the fact the guys are shunning her at the moment. Because it gives him more time with her alone. Because she has an inkling he's jealous of his CO. But she humors him nonetheless, though she knows she's making a big mistake.

Chris rolls his eyes at her. "It's past eleven, damn it. Can't you have some down time?"

She huffs. "I'm head of the food service, Chris. I pull as many hours as most heads of departments here, including your CO," she points out. He bites his bottom lip. She's just reminded him she's got a higher position than him and though she's older than he is and has been on Atlantis for much longer than he has, it stings nonetheless.

"There you are!" John exclaims then skids to a halt when he sees Chris. "Captain," he greets him curtly.

The younger man nods but doesn't salute, not being on duty at the moment. "Sir," he greets his commander politely. "You wanted to see me?"

"No, actually, it's our cook I need to talk to," John replies with a tense smile, making Chris know he needs him to leave.

"Right. I should have known," Chris says, bordering on disrespect. Louise glares at him. "I mean, yes, of course, Sir," he amends and walks to the door but takes time to kiss Louise as he passes her. She lets him but cringes all the same. John looks away, his arms crossed on his chest.

When Chris has left, he trains his eyes on her. She looks embarrassed and doesn't know what to say. After all, he's the one who sought her out so he goes first. "I wanted to see you because I was made aware that our temporary disagreement is affecting other people's work," he says.

She lifts her eyebrows so he elaborates. "I was not very kind to you this morning during the interview. Colonel Carter pointed it out to me."

She snorts. He hasn't been kind to her in weeks. "You've been shunning me for weeks, John. This morning was no different than your recent routine."

He pouts. "Right. And I apologize. We obviously need to work together and to do so, we need to communicate so I came down here to tell you I'm aware things cannot remain the way they are."

She looks up hopefully so he lifts his forefinger and goes on. "But let's be clear. It's only for work's sake. I still think you should not let him into your life."

She growls, aggravated. "This is so not your business, John. I don't see why you guys hate him so much. Captain Johansen is a good soldier and paramedic and a valuable addition to our expedition. He's also a good person – which you would soon discover if only you tried to get to know him!"

He huffs, exasperated. This is not going at all as he had planned and once again, it's because he couldn't catch her alone and talk some sense into her. She's clearly under the influence of her boyfriend. "It's not what I said, Louise! Damn! Ain't you bullheaded and irrational these days! I'm not judging his work here."

She narrows her eyes at him and gets into his personal space, arms crossed too. "No, of course not! You're just judging my ability to make the right choices for my own life. My life, John! Not yours!" she says through clenched teeth.

He lifts his hands up and huffs. "God, I hate it when you're like this!"

He starts pacing, trying to keep his temper. If he listens to his instincts, he'll do what he's already done right here so long ago. Corner her and lash out at her. Maybe if he yelled enough at her, she might snap out of her transe and see how wrong Johansen is for her. But he can't do that this time because he won't have the excuse of the iratus bug to justify his bullying her.

He walks back to her and leans towards her, locking eyes. "I can't fight you on that, Louise, you're right. You're a grown woman and though I wish you had chosen differently, I have to let you make your own mistakes. Know that I'll still be there for you if ever you come to your senses. This being said," he adds hurriedly, seeing her ready to yell at him for calling the man she's let into her life a mistake, "I need you on duty, as part of our missions." He sees the hopeful look. "Not with the team, though. I can't trust myself around you right now and I think I can speak for McKay and Dex when I say they share the same feeling of distrust for Johansen. We can't be at odds off-world. It would be too dangerous. So, for the time being, I'm assigning you to Lorne's team. He'll take you off-world whenever food negociations are needed. Be kind to send your requests for anything you might need to Colonel Carter and Major Lorne. I've read all your updates on our food supplies," he adds, briefly looking around at the crates surrounding them. "I'll make sure your concerns are given full attention and Evan knows how to be of help." His tone is final. The matter is settled as he'd promised Colonel Carter. She'd offered for him to take Louise with him on his own team but the decision can only be his and she's been clear she trusts him with making the better choice for everyone.

Louise nods curtly, seeing there's nothing else she can say. She's not the CO's favorite anymore. She'll have to deal with it. "Thank you, John, for allowing me off-world again. I'll make sure to get on well with Major Lorne's team and not be a burden."

"And you will remember I won't allow for any other foul play on your part," he adds, lifting his eyebrows. He has never forgiven her for her little stunt with Michael on her first mission without him. She nods again but doesn't say a word. "Good," he simply says before leaving.

"He shuns me all he can, Teyla, but at least he's agreed to let me go off-world again. I was getting cabin fever here," she tells her friend over tea that night. Ever since John has discovered Teyla was pregnant, Louise and her spend more time together than they ever had, having something more in common – John's relunctance to approach them. He's clearly ill-at-ease with Teyla's pregnancy and finds every possible excuse to not spend more time than needed with any of them.

Teyla chuckles. "You spend your time working, Louise. I cannot imagine why you feel the need to do more."

Louise shakes her head and pouts. "It's not I would say no to a few days off, especially if John was still my friend and he took time off with me to go surfing. It's just I need to get the hell out of here, breathe some fresh air, do something else."

Teyla looks at her cautiously. "Not see someone for a while too?" she suggests.

Louise winces. "Yeah, well, that too. I kind of need him to let me breathe, that's all. Chris is a great guy, he is, but... I spend too much time cooped up with him. It's so not me, Teyla. I've been independent for too long. And right now, I feel like a housewife."

Teyla looks sorry for her and pats her hand. "Do you feel like you're going backwards?"

Louise nods. "I hate the idea that Chris thinks we're going to settle into a routine and I'm for granted and all. He's still pestering me about coming clean about it and telling everyone we're dating. But he doesn't get it. I don't want to feel like I'm dating him. It was never supposed to be that way."

"Did you tell him that?" Teyla suggests. Louise is always so considerate with people she often finds it difficult to make her point – with the exception of her kitchen and mess hall where she bosses her team around and never has any qualms about saying no to anyone, team or expedition members alike.

"I tried but he never listens. I think he believes with time I'll let him have his way. But I won't," she says decidedly.

"Well, maybe you should consider making your point now and be done with it, Louise. The longer you wait, the more difficult it will get," Teyla tells her.

TBC

 _Don't worry. Soon, you'll get fluff ;)_

 _And if you like cupcakes and lemon, why don't you visit my Tumblr blog: letsseasoneverythingwithlove? I've just posted my own version of the lemon curd cupcakes. Yummy!_


	41. Chapter 41

_Chapter 41_

 _Spoilers for the Seer and Spoils of War._

Jennifer comes to her one day. Louise is preparing her menus for the week ahead, sitting at the table in the kitchen. "Mind if I come in?" Keller asks tentatively. They don't know each other much and Louise has not warmed up to her yet. The girl is too young to her liking and she's not sure she can connect to her. She's not even sure she'll ever fit in.

She smiles at her all the same. It's not her fault she's filling in for Carson and seeing her always reminds her of the friend they've lost. "Sure. What can I do for you, Doctor?" Jennifer sees her unease and mistakens it for a fear of being ordered in the infirmary for a check up or shots.

She lifts her hands in mock surrender. "Before you ask, I'm not here for you. I've come to ask for your help." Louise nods and offers her to sit with her. "As you may know, I have a very sick patient in the infirmary..."

Louise shakes her head. "I'm just the cook, Doctor," she answers self-deprecatingly. "I'm not kept in the loop." Ever since the guys are shunning her, she doesn't get any intel except for what is directly her responsibility.

"Alright," the other woman amends, "well, see, there's that planet – Vedeena. Their leader, Davos, is a very sick man. He also has the uncanny ability, it seems, to see the future. Kind of like a seer."

Louise giggles. "These people don't exist, though, if they did, I bet they would be very valuable to us! A little hindsight would be useful at times."

Jennifer smiles. "I take it you don't like surprises," she chuckles.

Louise chuckles too. "No, I certainly don't. So, you were saying..."

Jennifer sees she now has her attention. "This man has an advanced form of cancer against which I cannot do much. I can make him as comfortable as possible but that's about as far as our medical advancement goes. I was wondering if you could come and see him. Talk to him and see what he'd fancy eating. I know he's trying to make efforts but most of the food on his trays is left untouched," she says despondently, looking at her hands she's rested on the table.

She looks up and sees Louise has spaced out. She waits patiently. After a minute or so, Louise turns to her, a look of pain etched on her features. "My uncle died of cancer when I was in college. We like food in our family and though he was an in-law, he sure adapted well. But when he got sick, nothing my aunt would prepare for him suited him. He said it tasted like ashes. Except for a few things she found he still enjoyed but that was mainly by trial and error. Everyone is different, I'm afraid," she adds, wincing.

Jennifer looks hopeful. "Could you maybe see what he'd like? I know I'll make you pull extra hours..." she adds.

Louise laughs humorlessly. "Time is all I have these days, Dr Keller. I'll help him."

She follows her to the infirmary and is introduced to the patient and his daughter, Linara. They strike a conversation but he soon tires and she offers to come back later. "You rest, Sir," she tells him with an encouraging smile, "and while you do, I'll see what I can do for you. I'll bring a few things and you'll tell me if you fancy anything."

He nods tiredly and closes his eyes. "Thank you, Ms Léger. I know it's difficult for you to see someone with the same ailment as one of your loved ones. It makes your help even more worthy. I do appreciate." She looks towards Jennifer, frowning. They've come together to the infirmary and there's no way anyone has told him about it because she never told anyone – not even John.

She wants to ask but he's already asleep so she just leaves quietly and sets to work, putting Wilson in charge of the kitchen so she can give her undivided attention to their patient. She thinks about her uncle – what he liked to eat when he got sick, before he was too weak and had to be hospitalized. She starts making recipes for one and sets them on a tray and is getting ready to take them to the infirmary when she sees Davos, accompanied by his daughter, walk tentatively in the room. He looks a little better and the IV has been unhooked from his arm.

She walks up to him and offers her arm. He walks cautiously between her and his daughter. Louise leads them to the balcony. "It's a nice, warm day. It would be a shame to spend it inside. I'lll set the table for two and you can pick and choose, find something you like maybe in the food I've prepared for you," she offers.

He settles in one of the chair but his daughter declines to do so, offering to help. She looks lost and sorrowful so Louise accepts her help – to keep her busy. They make quick work of setting the table and bringing the plates she's prepared. She points at each of them, one after the other, explaining what it is and what the ingredients are. "If there's something you like, I'll consider it a staple on your menu, and if you don't feel like eating something, just don't. Holler if you need help," she tells Linara before leaving.

His daughter comes to her half an hour later, telling her what her father has liked and bringing back one of the trays. "He's asked for you, Ma'am, if it's not asking too much," she informs Louise. "I think he wants to talk to you about something."

Louise smiles at her and removes her apron. "Sure. I can spare some time." She grabs her grandmother's cookbook. "Maybe he'll find something in there he'd like to try."

Linara shakes her head. "I don't think it's that kind of talk. Maybe someone told you about my father's ability..." she says tentatively.

Louise nods. "I have to tell you though I don't believe in such abilities. That's just fiction to me," she tells the younger woman gently. She doesn't want to be rude but she has no patience for that kind of tales.

"Just go and see him, Ms Léger. I know I'm asking a lot but he believes nothing happens out of pure luck and he hasn't had so many visions in such a short time. Humor him, please," Linara begs her.

"Very well, I will listen to him. But don't ask me to believe what he says."

They converse congenially for a half hour or so. He hasn't mentioned his vision and she's glad of it. He gets tired after a short while and Louise calls the infirmary to get a wheelchair and a medic to come and get him. He thanks her for her time and efforts at making him comfortable.

Chris drops by as he's being wheeled away. He takes one look at the younger man and grabs Louise's hand. "Can I talk to you in private, Ms Léger?" he asks, taking her by surprise. She pouts but relents, thinking how little time he has left and is yet worrying about others instead of his own well-being.

Chris sighs. Everytime he drops by, there's always something coming up that takes her away from him. She sighs too and stares at him, clearly pissed at his impatience. "Can you give us all a minute," she tells the medic and Johansen. Linara smiles at her and leaves the room quietly behind them. Louise folds her hands on her lap and waits.

The older man watches her intently. "He's your companion, isn't he?"

She flushes and looks away. "More like a temporary boyfriend," she corrects him, looking embarrassed.

He nods. "I agree. I don't see him in your future but I have seen something else I'd like to talk to you about."

She scoffs. "Yeah, well, it wouldn't take much insight to see we're not made for each other. And as for guessing he's my boyfriend, that was quite easy, seeing how he acts all proprietary around me."

Davos pouts. "Your walls are so high, my dear..."

She sniggers. "Yeah, well, someone told me that some time ago. But, you know, I'll take that as a compliment. It's kept me alive until now so..."

He looks at her sadly. "But this young man, you're keeping him at bay, like everybody else. He doesn't stand a chance. And as for what I've seen earlier, you need to know..."

She cuts him off. "Look, I don't wanna know, OK? If it's something about Atlantis or anyone else on this expedition, you need to talk to Colonels Sheppard or Carter. They're the ones in charge. If it's solely about me, I don't give a damn shit about what the future has in store for me. Fate has been a bitch from day one. I don't see why it'd change." She looks away, tears in her eyes.

"Ms Léger, I didn't want to hurt you. I was just trying to help," he apologizes.

She turns to him with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "I know, Mr Davos. I'd just like to have a say in the matter if you don't mind and right now, I am sick of being told by others what I have to do. I'll call your daughter now. I need to get to work on the evening meal as well as yours."

She looks around as Linara and the medic come to get Davos and wheel him to the infirmary but Chris is nowhere to be found. She walks out of the mess hall and looks around too. She sees John and Mr Woolsey walking her way.

The latter gives her a broad smile. "Ms Léger! Exactly the person I wanted to see! I asked your friend here to make a little detour before our meeting in the conference room."

She shakes hands with him, trying hard to ignore said friend. John makes a show of ignoring her as well, staring at his shoes, his hands behind his back. "Mr Woolsey, good to see you again. How have you being doing?"

"Good, quite good," he replies genially. "You may wonder why I'm here..." he baits her and sees her eyes crinkle then she sobers up.

"None of my business, Sir. I'm just the cook," she replies, glancing at John briefly. She has not forgiven him for keeping her out of the loop.

Woolsey glances at Sheppard briefly and sees him huff. He makes a mental note of inquiring into it later. "You're no ordinary cook, Ms Léger. As a matter of fact, the IOA is very much interested in the missions reports you have filed about those new trading partners. I, myself, am quite impressed by the amount of work and time you've put in those negociations," he praises her and sees her blush slightly.

"It was nothing, Sir. I had great teams with me and the reputation established by Dr Weir to back me up. It was a walk in the park," she replies, seeing John tense at Woolsey's praises.

"A walk in the park, indeed," he mutters under his breath.

Woolsey turns to him and lifts his eyebrows. "Aren't you satisfied with the results, Colonel?"

Sheppard scoffs. "It's not the results I'm worried about right now. It's the method," he replies nastily.

She tenses and looks away. She knows he's talking about her run in with Michael.

"Not all missions can be a hundred percent successful, Colonel," Woolsey defends her. "We are well aware of Ms Léger's run ins with a few problems ever since I saw her last," he adds then turns to her. "Youth befits you, my dear, I must say..." he teases her.

She chuckles. Woolsey is supposed to be a pain in the ass but he's still very nice to her and she must admit, that's something she's in dire need of these days. She nods quietly and blushes.

"As for those two little incidents with this Lucius man and then Michael, we've decided it was more a bane than a boon. Given your recent success with establishing further partnerships and the added bonuses of your gene and youth, I've been allowed to tell you you're not under the scrutiny of the IOA. Quite the contrary, actually. And against all odds, I might add. Because you, my dear, had started on the wrong foot with them..." he teases her further.

She looks ill at ease so he decides to put an end to her misery and turns to Sheppard. "I'll come and see this young lady later on. We have work to do." He turns to Louise and shakes hands. "I'll be most happy to chit chat with you over dinner if you can make time for me, that is..."

She nods and smiles. "No problem. Just drop by whenever you want, Mr Woolsey."

He and John leave. He hasn't said a word to her, only glared at her when Woolsey defended her. She sighs. Being seen as the teacher's pet is not what will help her relationship with John, she's afraid.

She doesn't see Chris until much later. She doesn't like to do it but she's finally called him on his communicator when he didn't come to her quarters that night. It's a first. He answers right away but seems very aloof. "Took you long enough to call me," he huffs.

She rolls her eyes, aggravated. "Damn it, Chris. Stop being such a baby! I had things to do."

He doesn't answer so she insists. "Well, are you gonna tell me why you wanted to see me earlier?"

He rolls his eyes too. "Do I need a reason?"

"Well, I don't know. What I meant is, was it urgent?" she counters. He always tries to make her feel guilty, make her feel she's not doing things right. She would never have thought he'd turn out to be the needy type. She'd pegged him for the easy-going, laid-back type, something she's always appreciated in guys. The needy type makes her feel insecure.

"No," he drawls, "except if wanting to have dinner with you counts as an urgent matter, though now dinner has come and gone, it will have to wait until tomorrow, I guess," he huffs.

"Have you had dinner?" she worries.

"Louise, you're not my mom!" he growls.

"Fair enough. I was just offering to cook something for you if you had not," she amends.

"No, thanks. I'm at the gym, with the guys. I intend to spend the night there," he answers, making her know he won't drop by at her quarters now.

"OK," she answers hesitantly.

He hears the disappointment in her voice and smirks. "But I will definitely join you for dinner tomorrow night," he adds.

"Ah, well, that might a problem. I'm supposed to meet Mr Woolsey so I can't tell you for certain I'll be free..."

He huffs. "Whatever," he mutters and ends the communication without a "goodnight".

She does see Woolsey the next night. It's funny how he makes everyone antsy but by now, she's gotten the hang of it and knows it's in his nature to be a busybody so she just ignores it and tries to enjoy the company, now he's told her she's not under their scrutiny.

What bothers her though is being caught between John and Chris, both men being on either side of the mess hall and glancing towards her from time to time. She keeps her head down when Chris passes her to return his tray and leave and then angles herself so she doesn't feel the need to glance towards John.

"Something seems to be bothering you, Ms Léger," Woolsey notices. She's seen him glance towards both men at least once so she knows for certain she's busted.

She pouts and shrugs. "Not every day can be a perfect day."

"I talked to Colonel Sheppard, Ms Léger," Woolsey replies pointedly, making her blush.

"And what did he tell you?"

"That he doesn't approve of your recent choices." She glares at Woolsey. "He also said you'd both agreed to disagree for the sake of your cooperation on the job," he adds, ignoring her unrest.

"We did not!" she protests.

He lifts his eyebrows. "This is not what he said. From what I gathered, Colonel Sheppard said you'd found a compromise..."

"It's more like he found a compromise and I had no choice but to agree with it, Sir," she explains.

"So I take it you're not happy with the whole situation..." He narrows his eyes at her and she realizes she's on shaky ground.

She glances towards John who gives her a quick glance then looks away. She sighs. "Look, Mr Woolsey. Colonel Sheppard and I, we don't agree on certain personal matters."

"The young man who made a show of not looking at you when he passed us a little earlier on, yes. I gathered that," Woolsey replies.

She flushes. "Did Colonel Sheppard tell you about him?"

"No, he did not elaborate on your personal issues, my dear, but it's in plain sight to see," he answers pointedly.

She huffs. "Well, then, Sir, you only need to know one thing. I'm not happy about how my friends are treating me right now but it is not impacting my work or the negociations, as you so kindly remarked yesterday, so I see no cause for you to worry."

"But I do worry, Ms Léger," he counters her, frowning. "It was reassuring to know you'd finally fit in here. I wouldn't like you to revert to your former self, especially as Colonel Sheppard seemed to have a good influence on you. Mend this, Ms Léger," he adds sternly. "We need you both on the job and we need you to cooperate."

She pouts. "It's not as easy as it seems, Sir. He's stubborn. I'm stubborn..." she says dejectedly. "I believe my personal life is indeed personal and he, in return, believes he knows better and I shouldn't be seeing Captain Johansen."

Woolsey nods. "It's not my place to tell you who to see, Ms Léger. You're single and a civilian. Technically speaking, you can see anyone you like. The IOA is aware that a few relationships have bloomed around base – something we expected, of course. I won't judge you for dating that young man in particular, either," he adds, making her flush again.

She cuts him off. "Do you disapprove of my seeing someone younger than myself?"

He shakes his head. "It could be frowned upon if you were older but you look barely older than him and if that young man is what you've been looking for, I don't have anything to say about it. In that case, as I was saying, I advise you strongly to tell Colonel Sheppard it's not his call. As I gathered, you two never talked about it..."

She shakes her head. "How could we when we never talk at all?" she sniggers.

TBC


	42. Chapter 42

_Chapter 42_

 _Spoilers for Quarantine._

He's sitting at her feet, near her desk, as she's finishing writing a few recipes in her cookbook. She's spent a lot of time experimenting on new ones and he's waited patiently for her to spend time with him. His shift finished more than an hour ago but she's still working on it and he's starting to get really bored. It seems all she does is spend time in her kitchen these days.

At first, she would make time for him, humor him when he'd offer to do something together. They would have breakfast together before anyone came in, at the crack of dawn, and often end up there as well for dinner on the balcony when the weather was warm enough. He'd take her on walks to the piers or they'd spend time in her quarters or his, watching movies or playing games. That was the first couple of weeks.

Since then, she's repeatedly eluded his offers to do things together. Go to the TV room to watch a movie with other marines he knows, eat together in the mess hall, go to the gym – nothing he offers seems to please her. All she still grants him is time in her room but even when she does, he often spends half of the time waiting for her to tie loose ends.

He's sat next to her in the hope she'd see how bored and alone he feels. He's leaned his head on her thigh and his currently massaging her calf. She finally bends and removes his hand gently. "Don't do that. It's distracting and I've already had to make corrections twice. If you want me to finish it soon, let me work," she chides him.

He scowls and rolls his eyes. "Surely, honey, that can wait. And I can't," he adds mischievously, pulling her from her chair and making her tumble on his lap. She yelps but he wraps his arms around her and rolls her on the floor playfully so she lays on top of him. She huffs and pushes herself off of him but he tightens his grip around her waist, pulling her against him. He's unmistakenly turned on and she knows what's next.

At first, it was exciting. She has to admit she's still hooked on the feeling of being safe and secure in his arms at night and enjoys their lovemaking. He's a gentle lover who always listens to her needs but that in itself has become a problem. She doesn't want to be pampered. She wants to feel alive. She wants the excitement of sitting on the edge – the way she felt when the guys took her on missions and things turned out the way they always do with John's team. With Chris, it's always sweet and safe and she's realized recently this is not what she's after. She might have been, in another life, but she's changed and that hit her like a ton of bricks when she realized it a few days ago.

She pushes him away and gets to her feet. "It could if you let me breathe but I haven't had time for this in weeks. I need to do it. Period," she answers more forcefully than she intended and sees the look of hurt on his face.

She walks to the door and passes her hand over the sensor. "Leave," she says. "I need to focus and yes, finish this. We'll talk later."

He stands and walks to the door that suddenly closes shut. She passes her hand over the sensor again but nothing happens. "What's going on?" she mutters.

"Let me try," he offers but nothing happens either so she taps her communicator.

"Rodney? This is Louise. I have a problem with my door..." She gets no answer so she repeats her message, to no avail. They try to call the Control Room and get the same silence that can only mean communications are down. She growls in frustration and stomps to her computer and powers it up. "Let me look," Chris offers and takes her place. He navigates through the intranet for several excruciating minutes until he finds it – the lockdown that is probably due to a contamination quarantine.

"You got to be kidding me," she groans. "Not again!"

"Honey," he says, wrapping his arm around her waist and drawing her on his lap. "There's nothing we can do. The doors are sealed shut and communications are down. Plus, we're on read-only from here so you can't even send a message. We're marooned. I think the best way to go through this is sit tight until Dr McKay finds a way to unlock the doors that are safe and allow the medical teams to work."

She pouts. "There's just a tiny glitch, Chris. Rodney was supposed to have lunch with Katie and intended to give her his undivided attention, which means no computer or tablet and no headset. And if we're really jinxed as I think we are, they might even be trapped in the greenhouse."

"Don't worry," he says kissing his way up her neck. "Someone will figure something out. There's always a team of scientists working in the Control Room."

She shakes her head. "You don't understand. They'd need Rodney's password to override the quarantine... or John's, which they don't have." She sighs. "Damn, why am I here? I feel so useless."

He's lifted his eyebrows at her mention of his CO's name. He looks away, his jaw set. "Why do you always have to bring him in the conversation?" he demands.

She huffs. "God, Chris. Stop being a pain! John could do something about it but for all I know, everyone is quarantined. Rodney is likely unable to reach a computer and Teyla told me she was going to see John to talk to him. He was supposed to be at Rodney's lab. He's not in the Control Room either."

"And what do you want to do about it?" he sniggers.

"Well. I know his password. If I can reach the Control Room, I could stop the quarantine," she says, setting to work on the computer, trying to find a solution.

"Wait! You know his password?" he growls. "How's so?" he demands.

"Damn, Chris. Stop being so wound up! We know each other well. And we used to be on speaking terms," she adds, lifting her eyebrows. "I know his lucky numbers. It doesn't take a genius to figure it out..."

She browses the blueprints of the City. She looks up and points at the ceiling. "There's an air vent one level up that will lead me to one of the outside staircases. It leads directly to the Control Room. Ten levels up to walk but it's worth the try. Thing is, to get to the air vent, I'll have to climb the tower to the next level." She sighs and walks to the window but he blocks her.

"You're so not climbing the tower, let alone get into that air vent. Give me the password. I'll do it," he tells her sternly.

She sniggers. "Hello! Twenty-first century? Women know how to fend for themselves! Besides, you're too tall and muscular to fit into that vent. See, being a petite is not only cute. It also comes in handy sometimes!" she banters, grabbing a stool to break the window.

He takes it from her. "You're not doing this! This is too dangerous." He puts the stool down and points at her, pissed. "Colonel Sheppard is rubbing off on you, Louise. You think because the guy has saved the galaxy several times over you can do the same. Well, let me tell you something, lady. You're not him or Ronon. You're petite and fragile and reckless. You got to stop that before it kills you."

She shakes her head in disgust. "You guys have to stop smothering me! I'm going," she says, her jaw set and grabs the stool back.

He grabs her from behind. "No, you're not!"

"Chris, let me go or I swear..." she kicks and screams so he puts her down and circles her.

"Or what?" he dares her.

She sighs. "Look, I don't want to fight but this is my damn decision. And yes, John wouldn't approve but I'm not doing anything he wouldn't do."

"Or what?" he repeats, his eyes boring into hers.

"Or if we get out of this unscathed, you will be sleeping alone tonight," she replies.

He presses his lips together and motions for her to pass, looking pained. "I was trying to protect you and you throw that in my face."

"I don't need your protection," she tells him and throws the stool throught the window.

"No, you don't," he replies, defeated. "You already have your knight in shining armor. Who am I compared to him?"

She doesn't even reply and climbs through the window.

She is breathless when she gets to the Control Room and as Murphy's Law goes, John has already reached it and left. She sighs but refuses to stay and makes her way to them, hoping she can help people down there. She gets to them as Zelenka has already gotten the systems back online.

He watches her approach him in disbelief. "Louise, how did you get here?" he asks, walking to her.

"I climbed up the tower, got into an air vent and walked up the staircase," she announces proudly.

Lorne sniggers. "As reckless as a certain CO I know."

"You should have stayed put, Ms Léger," Sam tells her. "That was dangerous."

"And reckless," John adds, his eyes dark with anger. "And stupid."

She pouts and crosses her arms defensively over her chest. "You would have done the same thing," she points out.

"Actually, he did," Lorne informs her. "All four levels to the Control Room."

"I only had one to go," she replies. "Piece of cake," she says smugly.

John rolls his eyes. "The scope of your arrogance reminds me of a certain scientist's," he remarks nastily. "I can't believe you came up with that stupid idea. And of course, no one was there to stop you! Perfect!" She looks at her feet. "Louise?" he demands. "No one was with you, right?"

"Uh-uh," she replies non committally.

"Louise..." he growls. "Answer the damn question!"

"Captain Johansen was with me," she mumbles.

Lorne frowns. "He should have stopped you."

"He tried. I didn't let him," she replies, not wanting Chris to take the blame. "Look," she adds, turning to John who's currently fuming, "it was my damn decision. He has nothing to do with it."

John ignores her. "I need to send teams to the different areas of the City to evaluate the damage," he tells Carter, looking at her intently.

She nods. "Go, Colonel. I'll head back to the Control Room with Dr Zelenka and run diagnostics. Ms Léger, you're with me," she adds sternly.

Sheppard leaves with Lorne. Louise wants to follow him but Carter lays a hand on her arm. "You'd do more damage by trying to talk to him now," she advises her. "He's really angry with you."

She huffs. "Are you going to punish me?"

Carter scoffs. "No, I guess not. You tried to help and it was your life after all. But Colonel Sheppard is not going to forgive you that easily."

He walks to her that night as she's sitting in the mess hall with Chris, eating in silence. They've barely uttered a word since the end of the quarantine. She sees him approach her table and cringes. "I'm gonna get a talking-to," she tells Chris. He stands abruptly and leaves without a word, nodding respectfully at his superior. He already had one not an hour ago, for letting her put her life at risk.

She tries to stand but Sheppard sits in front of her. "Sit, Léger. We need to talk."

She pouts. "I'm sorry," she apologizes.

"Really?" His voice is dripping with sarcasm.

She rolls her eyes. "What am I supposed to say, John? Everything I do or say is always wrong in your eyes these days," she says reproachfully.

He huffs. "Look, I know Carter didn't get angry with you but you need to understand. I climbed that tower myself and I know it's dangerous. You could have slipped and fallen. Louise, we're at odds. It doesn't mean I don't care about your well-being. Quite the contrary, actually. You've got to stop scaring the shit out of me."

"And you've got to stop mothering me, John," she counters. "You could tell me you're proud of me. A few words of encouragement would be most welcome these days, ya' know..." she adds, standing. "But of course, I'm not worth them anymore, I guess."

He pouts, embarrassed, but does not reply, so she leaves and heads back to her kitchen. She's not on duty today but it's one of those days when she really needs to cook till she drops because, let's face it – if she doesn't have the support of her friends, what has she got left?

TBC

 _So much angst, uh? Well, I'll give you some fluff in the next chapter. Promise ;)_


	43. Chapter 43

_Chapter 43 – The Party_

 _I'd like to renew my thanks to all the people who are faithfully reading this story, especially to those who are following it and/or have favorited it._

 _And of course a special thank you – again – to Guest 64 who never forgets to tell me what she thinks about each chapter. You always make my day and it greatly helps. I hope I'll get to know who you are some day, mystery reader ;)_

 _For those who are interested in the prequel to this story, I'll start posting it tomorrow. It's called Louise and is a crossover between SG1 and Stargate Atlantis._

"You've outdone yourself, chef." Ronon is grinning, ladling his plate with all kinds of finger food she's prepared for the party. It's the first time in eons he says something nice to her. She only often gets snarky remarks these days or silent stares, which really are no better. He's never forgiven her for letting Chris into her life.

After everything they've been through recently, Sam has decided it was high time Atlantis had a proper party. No reason in particular, she's told Sheppard. Just to celebrate life. He's half-agreed, not having fully overcome his remorse and guilt for all those they have lost, but has complied gracefully, knowing not everyone is as forlorn as he is.

She's asked him to coordinate preparations. He's surveyed the decorations, rearranged shifts so everyone can participate, put Chuck in charge of getting everyone's favorite songs and being the designated DJ.

The most difficult part was to go see Louise so she'd agree to put even more work hours in the food service. He's tried to bail out, contending Sam could negociate with the chef, but she's insisted he'd do it – being herself swamped with mission reports to read.

Actually, she thinks the situation has been at a stand-still for too long. She's even talked to Louise about it but she's told her the guys are punishing her for spending time with Chris and she won't let them bully her. Sam first did not intervene when she got there, especially when John finally agreed Louise should be sent back on trading missions. It's vital to the expedition and as long as she agrees to go with Lorne and his men and doesn't ask for her own team again, he's come to terms with it. She's safe with Lorne, not withstanding the added bonus of not letting her spend time off-world with her "boyfriend".

John hates to think about it, but Chris – though very discreet since that first embarrassing morning in the kitchen – is too often seen around her to let anyone think otherwise. He's mentioned it several times to Teyla when she said he's hurting Louise in the process. "She's the one who started it, Teyla! It's not I don't like the guy. It's just I don't like seeing them together. He's not the right kind of guy for her, that's all."

Teyla knows she can't reason with him or even Ronon or McKay. They're pretty stubborn – all of them. She doesn't tell him Louise has qualms about her relationship with Chris – had them from the start. She doesn't mention she said: "He's a good man. Most girls would be happy to call him theirs. It's just he's too young, I guess. We don't have much in common."

"Yeah, he's right, you know." John comes to stand next to them. "You've done wonders again, little witch." She turns to him, amazed at how relaxed he suddenly acts, after being tense and aloof for so long. He smiles. "Hey, Louise, what about we get these people on the dance floor?" he offers with a wink, seeing how relunctant everyone is, though the mess hall has been cleared and Chuck is manning the stereo in the corner, looking disappointed no one has yet dared to get the party started.

She shakes her head, chuckling. "Sorry, too rusty for that!"

He offers his hand, palm up. "Humor me. It's just a waltz," he says, hearing the first chords of Mexican Wind. It's one he's heard her listen to several times in her kitchen. "I lead. You just need to follow, sweetie." She relents, seeing how hopeful he looks. He walks her to the center of the dance floor and twirls her around as he hears the song settle into the rhythm of the waltz. He lifts the hand he's kept in his and splays his other hand on her back, drawing her closer. "You're ready?" He looks her in the eye. She nods and keeps her eyes on his, feeling their feet move in unison. After a few chords, they find their pace. She hasn't danced in years and was afraid she'd be clumsy but it's so easy with him, she just relaxes and enjoys the moment, smiling at him. He smiles too. "You look pretty tonight." She's not wearing a dress – she's never felt comfortable in them – but she has opted for a long-sleeved white blouse over black skinny jeans and boots.

"You're not bad yourself," she compliments him. He's wearing a black jacket over faded blue jeans and a white shirt. "You look..."

"Less military," he completes her sentence, making her laugh.

"Yeah, that must be it!" They've fallen back into their routine without realizing it. It feels comfortable and sweet. She sighs and he draws her closer as the music slows for a brief moment, making them stand still for barely a couple of seconds before he makes her move backward again and she follows his lead effortlessly. "I miss you, Léger," he whispers in her ear. It's a bald move. Knowing her, she might fly into a rage at him for daring voice out their issues.

She sighs. "I miss you too, John – a lot."

The confession makes him pout. "I'm sorry," he simply says and seeing her pout too, he draws her just a tiny bit closer than what is normally allowed. She doesn't push him away and they finish the dance in comfortable silence. It feels warm and safe in his arms and if she had a wish, she'd want it to last forever.

When the music ends, he doesn't let go of her hand. "Let's get something to eat," he offers. She glances towards where Chris is standing with other marines. He's trying hard not to look at her but she sees the scowl on his face. Rodney, on the other hand, is beaming at her. "He has you all the time," John remarks, glancing towards Chris as well. "It won't hurt him to let you breathe a little."

She winces but relents. "You're probably right and I'm hungry. I'll be right back." She heads to the kitchen to get her shots and sees Chris ready to follow her but Ronon blocks his way, his arms crossed on his chest, and shakes his head. She thinks _Oh, boy, not tonight!_ but John is already on it so she scurries to the kitchen to make it quick before the whole thing goes south.

When she returns, Chris is nowhere to be seen. She huffs and heads towards John. "What happened?" she demands.

He chuckles. "Stop being so damn wound up, Léger. I did not kill him – yet. And neither did Ronon. He's on duty in the Control Room as of now and will return after the tech had his break," he elaborates, pointing at the guy who's entering the room and making a beeline for the buffet. "See, no foul. Now can we eat? I'm starving!" She giggles, seeing his puppy look.

They talk and nibble at their food, standing near the dance floor. She teases him, saying she had no idea flyboys could dance and he explains it was part of the mandatory activities during his childhood but now, in hindsight, he's glad his father forced him to take ballroom dancing after all. "So, you didn't fight him on everything," she points out.

"Oh, I did! I challenged him, taking two-step lessons as well. He went bonkers, believe me!"

She grins. "You know two-step?"

He lifts an eyebrow and puts his plate on the table beside him then grabs her hand. "Come on, I think a little demonstration is in order!" They go to see Chuck. "Any chance you'd have Ring of Fire?" he asks hopefully.

"You bet!" Chuck says, knowing his CO's love for the Man in Black.

"You ready?" John asks Louise. She nods, unsure. "You just follow my lead. Don't take your eyes off of me for a second. Everything I'm gonna do, we can anticipate together." She nods again. It's something they've developed off-world – their non-verbal communication. Something they haven't used in too long. She goes wrong on the first step a couple of time and groans. "Hey, it's OK. Again," he reassures her, holding her hand firmly in place, correcting the angle of her arm and making eye contact. This time she gets it right and is rewarded with his trademark grin. Chris' has got nothing on his, she suddenly thinks and misses a step, bumping into him. She blushes. "Sorry. I was not paying enough attention."

He shrugs casually. "Must be my good looks. I know I'm dazzling you," he drawls lazily, making her dissolve into laughter. He crosses his arms on his chest and glares mockingly at her, making her laugh even more.

She wipes the tears of mirth from her eyes. "You're a handful, Colonel Sheppard," she informs him playfully.

"Right back at ya', Ms Léger," he replies cockily, before pulling her to him again. "Don't worry," he says in her ear, "we'll find our pace, eventually. I'm a patient man when I put my mind into it."

Her pulse accelerates and she forces herself to slow it down. _It's just a dance, you stupid. He's just talking about the dance._ She smiles at him and lets him guide her from the simpler to more complex moves. As they dance in a circle around the dance floor she sees some people stare and others smile. Seeing their CO relax and indulge in such an odd activity is quite a show. Sam is sitting in a corner, talking quietly with Jack O'Neill who's visiting for a week. They wave at them as they go by their table.

John nods at Sam. "Thank you", he mouthes to her. She nods back with a smile. It's the first time she sees John lose the constant look of worry he permanently sports these days – ever since Elizabeth has disappeared.

They chit-chat with a lot of people that night – Ronon and Rodney and Teyla, of course, but also Keller and many others, and even go to sit for a while with Sam and Jack. She's glad to see he has been able to come – what with all the responsibilities befalling him. Rodney butts in at one point, whining that he hasn't been allowed to dance with Louise yet but John swats his hand away when he offers it to Louise. "She's mine tonight," he informs him, smugly, "and mine alone." She shakes her head at his antics, knowing he likes nothing more than to find a reason to bicker with his friend. "Aren't you, sweetie?" he insists.

She chuckles. "Yes, honey," she replies playfully.

General O'Neill stands, glancing at Sam for permission. "Surely, Colonel, you won't refuse me the pleasure of a dance with your protégée?" he asks, baiting him.

John motions for him to go ahead. "I'll lend her to you, General, but it's really because I owe you one." He elaborates for Rodney who looks nonplussed: "He got her here so I kind of have to comply... But just for this one time," he adds for Jack's benefit.

Louise snorts. "You'll so pay for this, Sheppard. I'm not your puppy, you know."

He grins at her cheekily. "Anytime, Léger. Sparring room, 8:00 tomorrow?"

She makes a face, knowing he'll kick her ass for sure.

Rodney butts in. "Hey, what about me? I'm the one who discovered her!"

"Again, guys, not a puppy, remember?!" Louise protests.

They leave them bickering to Sam's delight. Jack leads her to the dance floor. "It's a nice party," he remarks.

She nods. "Yes. It was sure nice of Colonel Carter to suggest it."

"And she's sure glad she killed two birds with one stone," he adds, waggling his eyebrows.

She bites her bottom lip. "I wish it were that simple, General. Come morning, John might give me the cold shoulder again. I'm afraid it's just a truce."

"As I gathered, Ms Léger, watching you two on the dance floor, you like each other a lot. Surely there's no reason you couldn't work out your issues."

"General, I never hid anything from you. The issue is called Chris. But he could be called any other name, I'm afraid it wouldn't change a thing. John thinks he knows better what's good for me." She pouts and sighs.

"And do you believe Captain Johansen is what's best for you?" he asks earnestly. "Cuz if he is, you need to tell Sheppard. But if he's not," he adds, looking her in the eye, "you need to tell that young man. From what I saw tonight and from what Sam told me, he seems to want much more from you than what you're allowing him to have right now."

She blushes. She knows she's not being fair to Chris but he's not been fair to her as well, allowing her to put them in this tricky situation. "It's a mutual agreement, General."

He shakes his head sadly. "You're deluding yourself, Ms Léger. This young man cannot be content with what he has right now. You're simply not giving him the choice."

She shakes her head. "I cannot give him more, General. I'm too old and I've been through too much. It will always stand in our way."

"I'm not asking you to make miracles. I'm just saying you'll need to make a decision and the longer you wait, the more painful it will get – for everyone." He looks past her. "Speaking of the devil..."

He twirls her around and she sees Chris enter the room. He walks past her and the General without a look for her. She sighs. She knows it has hurt him to see her with John but they can't go on like that. She misses her friends too much, especially one. "Why can't we have it all?" she mutters, more for her sake than for Jack.

He chuckles as the dance ends. "I don't have an answer to that one. Choose well, Ms Léger," he adds, looking expectantly, waiting to see where she wants him to lead her. She tilts her head towards John's team who have gathered at Sam's table and are trading jokes.

John doesn't leave her side that night, sitting next to her and occasionally dancing with her. Soon, she sees Chris leave the party but she doesn't stand to join him. They have a lot of talking to do and she has a lot of apologizing to make. She keeps the thought for a rainy day, though it will probably come sooner than later – like when the party ends. They need to settle this once and for all.

She just needs to enjoy her time with them all a little longer. John is sitting next to her, one hand resting on the back of her chair, as he used to back when she wasn't seeing Chris. It's been so long. From time to time, he massages her shoulders or her neck with his thumb and forefinger, like he used to do. No one says a thing but everyone notices.

Jack tilts his head towards them, making eye contact with Sam. She nods appreciatively. Her CO looks more relax than he has in months. So does Louise.

John glances at his watch from time to time, knowing the party is nearing its end. He needs to replace Lorne who's on duty in the Control Room. He wishes he could stay but that wouldn't be fair to his wingman. "Ah, guys. I need to leave you to it," he apologizes, wincing. "Got to let Lorne have a little bit of fun too." He bends and kisses Louise's temple – something he never does in public. "Try not to have too much fun without me, OK?" he banters.

"Will you not come back?" she worries, taken by surprise as she'd not even thought he'd leave at all by now.

"Well, I can. If you save the last dance for me..." he winks at her and leaves.

Rodney clears his throat. "Well, took him long enough to revert to his Captain Kirk mode but I guess I like him better that way than scowling and getting on everyone's nerves! OK, so now he's gone, will you dance with me?" he adds. She complies, happy to spend time with her friend who for once is not shunning her.

"Hey, where's Blue Eyes?" he asks not too diplomatically. She winces. "Rodney! Be a little more considerate. You guys act as if he were the devil himself. He's a good man!"

He rolls his eyes at her. "You're so blind! He is only trying to take you from us."

She shakes her head in disbelief. "He's so not! And no one, you hear, will take me away from you. Atlantis is my home and you're my family. Period."

He beams at her. "Really?"

She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, really! What did you all think?!"

He shuts up, letting the idea sink in that she's not going to leave them anytime soon. His spirits lift tremendously. "I missed you, you know," he says when he's taking her back to the table. "We all did." She nods quietly. She knows this can't possibly go on. It has already gone on for too long actually.

John returns for the very last dance, Rodney having slipped out quietly towards the Control Room to relieve him of his duty and let him have some more time with Louise. He tells him briefly about what she's said, to which John nods quietly and then adds: "Good."

He reaches the table as the first chords of Save the Last Dance for Me fill the room. She shakes her head in disbelief and chuckles. "Who chose the Drifters to end this party?" she wonders.

Jack looks at her pointedly. "I did. Don't like my choice of music?"

She salutes mockingly. "Yes, Sir, of course, Sir." He shakes his head and points at her, looking at Sheppard. "She only means trouble, that one," he informs him. "Put her in the brig."

John chuckles. "I threatened her of it many times, Sir. To no avail. She's like a bunch of cats in wrapping paper!" She swats his arm viciously. "Wow, you've got to stop doing that!" he protests and wraps his arm around her waist, leading her to the dance floor. She sees the sparkle in his eyes. It's been too long since she's done that actually. He protests every single time. She keeps on doing it. That's their routine – like him and McKay bickering. They miss it if they don't.

He settles into a slow dance, almost cheek to cheek. She realizes how much she's missed her friend, being close, both emotionally and physically. She wishes it would never end. She sighs. "Is it a sigh of content?" he asks.

She nods. "But it's sad when a party ends. It's like nothing will ever be the same."

"Good things are here to stay, Louise. Don't be so sad."

She looks at him. "Yeah. I guess."

"Could I walk you to your room?" he asks cautiously. "I know it's late but I'd like to talk... Preferably without McKay underfoot. He has a tendency to barge in on private conversations uninvited," he banters, feeling uncomfortable.

"If you don't mind, John, this will have to wait. I have to go see someone." He winces, knowing who she's talking about. She adds hurriedly: "Hey. I'll see you in the morning, OK? There are things I need to discuss and it's best I do it now."

"May I hope you're going to straighten a few things?" he asks.

She gives him a warning look. "John, don't push it! This is none of you business." He bites his bottom lip, refraining from speaking his mind. "But yes, if that can help you sleep tonight, things are gonna change around here as of tomorrow – I mean, today," she adds, glancing at her watch. She winces. "God, it's gonna be so hard to wake up tomorrow morning. I wonder if it's even worth going to sleep. I might as well set to work and be done with it."

He growls. "Louise... You need to sleep. I'll put a guard at your door if need be."

She rolls her eyes. "Alright then." The music ends and they join everyone who are bidding each other goodnight. She kisses his cheek and caresses his sideburn with her thumb, her hand on the side of his head. He leans into her touch. "I've missed you," she confesses. "Goodnight , John," she whispers before turning to the others. "Goodnight you all. See you in a few hours."

She passes her hand over the sensor to let him know someone is at the door. He opens it almost immediately. He's changed into shorts and a t-shirt and she can see he's ready to go for a run... at two in the morning. She winces.

"What do you want, Louise?" he asks tiredly and sighs.

"We need to talk," she says, hoping he'll take the cue and let her in. She's not having this conversation in the corridor, albeit empty at this time of night.

"No, we don't. Body language speaks for itself, ya' know. There's nothing you can say I don't know already." The muscle in his jaw twitches characteristically.

She huffs. "Please..."

He lets her in relunctantly.

"It's so not what you think," she says.

"Oh yes, it is. And maybe you're not even aware of it, in which case he's even more guilty."

"John is my friend, Chris. Nothing more. Everyone knows that!"

"No, Louise. You've decided that's how you want to see it. People just humor you. But I won't anymore. Only a fool would miss what's in plain sight for everyone to see. You turn to him like a sunflower to the sun every single time he enters a room, damn it!"

She flushes but chooses to ignore the innuendo and rather deflect the matter or she'll get pissed and yell at him, which won't achieve anything. "It was just a dance, Chris. He needed to reconnect. I needed to reconnect. And you make it sound like I'm betraying your trust or something."

"It was not just one dance, Louise. It was dances, throughout the evening. He didn't even allow McKay near you. And if it hadn't been for General O'Neill, no one would have had the privilege but him to approach you. He guards you like the damn crown jewels!" He growls.

"It was just a dance, Chris," she repeats, sighing.

"Yeah, right and denial is just another river in Egypt! He could have chosen any one of those songs but he waited for the most romantic of the whole bunch to ask you on the dance floor. Mexican Wind, damn it, Louise! It's slow, it's mesmerizing, and mesmerized, you were indeed! Cuz you never once looked away from him. Not once!" he repeats through clenched teeth. If she's honest with herself, she has to agree with him. She did let herself draw into the rhythm.

"I'm sorry I enjoyed the dance," she replies sharply. "Look, Chris, it's late and this needs to be settled once and for all. I feel the need to apologize for two things actually."

He looks at her expectantly, eyebrows raised and a scowl on his face. "Oh yeah? I wonder what for, really... You're so damn perfect!"

She growls. "Damn it, Chris, shut up and hear me out. I apologize for not spending time with you tonight. It was not considerate of me and selfish too." He snorts but she ignores him and plods on. "But the thing I feel the most guilty for is letting all this drag on for so long. You were right, you know. I only came to you because I was lonely that night and you had made it clear you were more than ready to spend time with me. I never intended for this to last, at least not that way. And I'm sorry for that. I should have been braver and put an end to it from the very start. You want things from me I'll never be able to give you..." Her voice trails off and she waits for the storm but it never comes.

He doesn't yell at her but simply crosses his arms on his chest defensively. "I thought so. I waited for you to warm up to me. I thought with time you'd come to see me as more than the guy who keeps you warm at night. I was wrong. And I'm sorry too. For ever trying. I should have known better. Actually, I think you will never regard anyone as you do Sheppard. In your eyes, he's second to none."

She wraps her arms around her middle, feeling this is it, this is when it ends. "I'm so very sorry it has to end that way. I never meant to hurt you."

He huffs. "I have been pondering leaving Atlantis for some time, Louise. I was waiting for the right time to tell you and maybe ask you to come with me."

She startles. "Why would you do such a thing? This is the chance of a lifetime."

He shakes his head. "Not for me. Not if there's nothing more than a job here. My uncle is retiring. He has a ranch in Montana. He's asked me to come and help him. When I talked to him about you, he said there was that small coffee shop in town that was going out of business and you could probably lease it and do something with the place. I said I'd talk to you about it."

She sees he's trying one last time to make her change her mind. She shakes her head, pouting. "I'm sorry, Chris, but no. You and I, we're too different. It would never work."

"And you're hoping it will with Sheppard?" he retorts angrily.

She shakes her head once more. "No, of course not. I'm just where I belong. Before you came along, I had never entertained the mere possibility of being with someone. I'm quite content being on my own, as it is. I think that's what angered John so much – that I'd change my attitude overnight so radically. He felt like I wasn't being true to my word."

He scowls. "Once more, it's about Sheppard!"

She hangs her head tiredly. He'll never understand what binds her to John. She needs to stop trying to explain. "Look, I'm going to let you rest, or run, or whatever you wanted to do. I'm wasting your time and mine trying to explain. Just think about your decision. You have good friends here and all the girls you want batting their eyelashes at you, if ever you wanted to open your eyes. Don't waste the chance of a lifetime."

He looks sad and lets her pass as she heads back for the door. "It's you who'll never understand, Louise. I won't see them. I never did. It was always you, even before the incident with Michael. It just gave me a good reason to act upon it, seeing how you'd finally allowed yourself to enjoy what you'd been given."

She trudges back to her quarters but cannot sleep so she changes and returns to her kitchen. She sets to work, making oven donuts for the morning. As she shapes them in her moulds and places them in her warm ovens to raise before cooking them and then glazing them with maple syrup, she lets the words sink in. He had developed an interest in her at a time she had not even noticed him. She feels sad for him and makes a silent prayer that he should find what he's looking for and one day maybe, forgive her for being so selfish and cold.

TBC

 _For once, this chapter was not inspired by taste (well, except for the oven donuts I love to make. Check out Sally's Baking Addiction oven donuts. Oh my god! My favorite!) but by sound ;)_

 _Mexican Wind is a compelling song by Jann Browne._

 _Of course, everyone who likes John knows about Johnny Cash and his Ring of Fire._

 _And I guess everyone knows the Drifters as well._

 _I chose them because both music and lyrics inspired me to create the mood of this chapter which, I guess, is a turning point in the story – at least one of them._

 _Feedback? Liked it? Hated it?_


	44. Chapter 44

_Chapter 44_

 _The prequel is online in case you're interested._

 _I'll be posting more regularly from now on, with a few chapters at a time, now I've basically edited it all. It doesn't mean there are no mistakes. No beta on that story. Sorry about that._

 _I don't know if anyone is still interested in that story._

 _Know that I'm working on a sequel. I do have the beginning and the end but still working my butt off on the middle and that's not the easiest part. So stay tuned and don't forget there's a blog too for those who, like me and Louise, think happiness is homemade._

 _Spoilers for Outcast_

She steps into the gate room at Midway Station as he and Ronon are leaving it. He turns on instinct as he hears the puddle whoosh close and sees her. She smiles shyly. She hasn't asked for his permission to come along. Maybe this is a huge mistake. Sure, Ronon didn't ask either but he's a guy – guys act differently in times like these. Maybe she's the last thing he needs right now.

" _Louise, my father has just passed away. I need to get back to Earth for the funeral. I just wanted..." he hesitates then clams up, his walls going up in a flash for the first time in weeks. "Sorry, just wanted you to know. I'll see you in a bit." He drops the shadow of a kiss on her cheek and is gone before she has the time to react..._

" _Ma'am, I need your permission to get back to Earth with Colonel Sheppard," she informs Colonel Carter hurriedly, having knocked on her office door._

" _You're not the first person who's asked, Ms Léger," Sam replies with a smile._

" _Does that mean I can't go?" she worries, her heart dropping. She can't let him leave like that. Too much hurt in his eyes, too much stress in his gait. She needs to know he's going to be all right._

 _Sam chuckles. "No, it's quite all right. Your under-cooks will manage somehow. I'm glad to see Colonel Sheppard won't be alone. It's in times like these we realize how much some people love us – even the most reserved," she remarks, both thinking about her own dad's death and about Ronon and Louise. They're not ones for showing their affection in public. She does know though that her 2IC and her head cook have a very close relationship but it's rare for them to advertise it. "You have my go-ahead. Take good care of him, Ms Léger."_

 _She nods and leaves at a run to stash a few clothes and toiletries in her tote bag. All she owns is casual but it will have to do until she drops at a store to get something for the wake and funeral should John ask her to come with him._

She walks down the ramp to him. He looks stern. She knows that look. It usually means he needs to keep collected or else. She comes to a halt in front of him as Bill Lee enters the room. "Please tell me if you'd prefer me to return home asap. I don't want to be a liability," she says, her voice strained.

He turns to Lee. "Doctor," he says, with a lazy drawl. "It seems there will be one more person coming with me, if that's not an inconvenience."

Lee nods with a smile. "I was informed by Colonel Carter just a moment ago. Your friends are most welcomed here, Colonel." He greets them both and informs them they'll have to share quarters though and wait for twenty-four hours before being allowed back on Earth. John takes her hand and squeezes it, making her know he's glad she's there.

They keep quiet most of the wait. There's not much to be said except platitudes in times like these. She knows – she's been through it herself. The longest day of her life. All you can do is spare your friend the hurdle of having to answer whatever you're trying to say to make things better. Because it won't get better. Only time can mend your sorrow or guilt. They briefly talked once of their fathers – how strained their relationships have been. They come from very different backgrounds but their story is eerily similar in many ways, one of them being the expectations of their fathers and their own refusals to let them mold them into what they wanted. She knows now he's gone, John will never get a chance to have a heart to heart conversation with him and she does know how much that hurts.

They drop at a couple of stores before they head to the hotel. She helps Ronon choose pants and a shirt in which he will not stand out too much – if that's ever possible! He looks good in them and she tells him, getting the first real smile from John who agrees. He grabs a suit for himself, not caring much how it looks, not seeing the openly admirative looks from the sales women. She hears "eye candy" in their conversation and stares them down. She adds a white shirt and tie to his selection and pushes him gently towards the fitting rooms then walks briskly to the women standing near the cash register. Ronon smirks. He's always been a sucker for a good fight even when he's only there to watch. "You, ladies, had better change your attitude before my friend leaves this room," she says through clenched teeth, pointing at the door John has gone through. "He's just lost his father. Have a little decency. And FYI," she adds nastily, looking them up and down, "you're clearly not his type." That's not exactly true but she doesn't feel like being compassionate right now – not one bit. Ronon sniggers as John reappears.

He walks to Louise and ruffles his already unruly hair. "What do you think?" he asks despondently.

She knows choosing clothes is the last thing on his mind. "You look OK. Don't worry."

He tilts his head and attempts to tease her, all the same. "OK? That's all?"

She smirks. "Why don't you ask the hairy heads over there," she says, pointing at the women she's just bawled out. "They say you're eye candy."

He sniggers and glances in their direction, getting compassionate looks. "Not my type. What did you do to them, Louise?"

"She kicked their ass. What do you think?" Ronon sniggers.

John smirks. "That's my girl! Let's get you something to wear now," he offers.

She ends up picking the first little black dress she sees. She hates wearing dresses but guesses it's the least she can do to fit in. "It's the first time I see you wear a dress," John remarks as they leave the store and head for the hotel. Their shopping spree has done wonders to take his mind off what's awaiting him. "I wish it were in different circumstances."

"You should wear one more often," Ronon nods in agreement.

She sniggers. "You guys are so cliché!"

Ronon hovers a lot during the wake, hardly leaving John's side. She remains discreet, waiting before she gets out of the car, and walks to the paddock. She only walks back to him when he motions for her to join them and meet his brother. She knows all about their strained relation – David being the favorite, the one who's always done things right. He looks nice enough but her heart goes out to John. She knows no matter what, she'll always side with him.

In the car, she sits next to him, with Ronon sitting in the back. She's seen John talk to his wife – gathered it was her because he's never talked about her. It's not the time to ask – not that she thinks she will if she doesn't think he's in the mood for it. She can only imagine how he feels right now. From the look he gave her, she knows he didn't expect to see her.

As she's given the specifics of the crisis at hand, she sneers inwardly. Lose father, check. See ex-wife, check. Chase a replicator, check. Things go south from then on. How much more is he gonna be able to bear before he finally snaps? But he doesn't, because that's who he is. She realizes this is probably what she loves the most about him – not his good looks, or ability to fly anything, or even his sense of humor – but the fact that no matter what happens in his own life, no matter how hard he struggles with his own issues, he's always ready to do whatever it takes to make things right and sacrifice his own well-being for the good of others.

He doesn't like to be told so and often hides it behind his sarcasm and it comes so easily to him, people forget to thank him for it. He's always watched her back and instead of thanking him, she's often yelled at him for repeatedly putting his life at risk. She realizes just now that what he most needs is not thank yous but to feel accepted for who he is and supported in his decisions, even the most reckless ones, as Elizabeth had done most of the times, even when she knew he was sacrificing himself. She makes a mental note of trying to do just that from now on.

When they corner the replicator, she offers to help. They're spread thin on such short notice and Ronon has mentioned quite a few times she's a good shot. John refuses adamantly, infuriating her. "No way I'm putting your life at risk. You stay behind. You're not trained for such operations," he tells her curtly, his mind already on the plan they've come up with.

She grabs his arm, drawing him to the side. "This is so not true, John, and you know it. I did everything you told me to. I train every week with you and Ronon and now you're telling me I'm no use? This is so not fair!" she protests, making him growl.

He frees his arm and points his finger at her. "You, lady, are staying right here. Period. I'm your CO. You do as you're told." He gets closer and whispers in her ear, not wanting to be heard by the rest of the team. "Don't undermine my authority, sweetie. I need you here and in one piece. I don't want to have to worry about your welfare on top of everything. I have my share of worry already." He looks her in the eye, waiting for a proper answer, knowing she'll humor him now.

"Yes, Sir," she replies, for everyone to hear. He doesn't say a thing. There'll be time enough to talk about it when they head back home. Midway Station has a 24-hour quarantine. Plenty of time to work things out.

She drops him at his father's place and makes sure his brother welcomes him before heading back with the taxi to their hotel. Ronon has left a few hours before, entrusting John to her. He's done what he knows best – be quiet, listen, be there and put up a good fight when needed. It's her turn to be there for him in her own way.

Back on Atlantis, when she was still the cook and Buckley was not underfoot, she would invite him to the kitchen and they'd talk while she cooked. When Buckley had then made the kitchen his own realm, though barely physically there, they'd had to resort to other ways. She would cook something and bring it to his quarters or hers. In a sense, she could thank Buckley for that. They've ended up spending more time together that way as it's easier to lose track of time when you're not in a public place, though deserted in the late hours.

He returns late in the afternoon. "I'm all yours," he informs her with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

She walks up to him and gives him a hug. "How did it go?" she tentatively asks, hoping even that doesn't overstep boundaries. They've never really talked about his feelings, only about facts about his family.

"Peachy!" he replies, his snarky retort hiding his hurt poorly.

"John, you don't have to pretend with me, you know. God knows I know what it feels like – having to keep it all inside. If you want to talk, I'll listen and if you don't, well, I can shut up too," she offers, making him chuckle.

"Sweetie, I don't know what I want right now. I'm tired. No, cross that out. Make it drained. By the whole thing – my father, my brother, my ex-wife, the replicator... God, what a day... days!" he replies despondently.

"Do you want me to leave you? I can return to the SGC and wait for you there," she offers, not wanting to impose on him.

"Stay!" he blurts out before he has time to think. She looks up, surprised by the unchecked reply. He's often so in control of his reactions, it's a far cry from what she is used to. "Did I say that out loud?" he wonders, embarrassed and bites his lower lip.

"Yeah, I'm afraid so!" she teases him. "I'll stay then. That's settled. Why don't you relax a bit and when you're ready, we'll go to a nice restaurant. I haven't seen you eat anything in I don't know how long."

He gives her a tired smile and nods. "I'll take a shower and meet you in the lobby in half an hour. I see you're not wearing that cute little dress of yours or I'd take you to a fancy restaurant," he teases her and sees it worked, seeing the look of horror on her face. She hates anything pretentious or uptight. "I know of a nice diner a couple of blocks from here," he amends. "I'm sure you'll like the place."

They walk back to the hotel when the sun has not even set. The place was homey and the food simple, as she likes it. They've asked for the booth at the farther end so they are away from the crowd of early patrons and can talk quietly. He tells her about his visit to his brother. They haven't much in common and been at odds for so long, he doesn't think there's much left between them, except the estate. John tells her he's been very clear with his brother he doesn't care much about what his father has left him.

She understands all he wants is to severe the ties once and for all. She knows the feeling quite well and tells him so, sharing her own story, filling the blanks about that part. It warms his heart to have someone to talk to about it, someone who will not judge him for feeling there's not much that remains to be saved wih his own family.

They talk some more over dessert, sharing blood orange pie and chocolate cake. She sends her compliments to the chef, mentioning she'll try and make the pie when she returns home. The waitress comes back with a couple of expressos and an invitation from the chef to join her in the kitchen. She starts by refusing, not wanting to leave John alone but he chuckles and orders her to go. She comes back with a huge grin on her face a few minutes later and a recipe in hand.

As they walk back to the hotel, she feels his arm tense against her hand she's wrapped around. "You OK?" she worries.

"Nope," he replies bluntly, knowing she won't mind. She waits for the other shoe to drop. "Going to sleep is going to be difficult. I'm too wound up."

"You need to relax, John. The worst is behind you. Believe me. You just need the people around you to allow you to grieve. I'll make sure they do just that," she says, her look almost fierce, as she remembers how she'd not been allowed that comfort.

He smiles and makes her stop then turns her so she faces him. They're under a lamp post that is flickering to light in the dimming evening. "You always take good care of me, Louise. You came to my father's funeral, even after having to endure your own's. And I often forget to tell you how blessed I am I have you by my side," he sighs.

"That's so not true, John. You don't need to tell me. I know. And you also take good care of me. That's what friends do. They watch out for each other." She smiles too and ruffles his unruly hair, trying to lighten the mood.

He leans in slowly and kisses her before she has the time to step back. A light kiss on her lips – barely qualifying to be called a kiss but still. It's a first. She lowers her head, not daring to look him in the eye. It's just a simple gesture of affection, she tells herself. After all they've been through, they're close enough to do so without feeling it's inappropriate. "Louise, say something," he pleads, tilting her chin gently with his forefinger so she'll have to look at him. She's dazed by what she sees in his eyes – pain but also longing, entertwined so tightly her heart stutters. "Have I overstepped boundaries?" he prods, suddenly scared he's done something irrevocable.

She shakes her head, not looking away. "Not if it's a one time thing, on the spur of the moment, no."

He lets go of her chin and combs his hand through his hair. "What if it's not?" She blushes. "I mean," he adds hurriedly. "I... To be honest, I'd like very much to try it again. One was not enough – by far..." He looks embarrassed at being so clumsy.

"Be honest, John. You need it because you're feeling suddenly lonely. We're far from home and you've just been under a lot of stress and grief and you need to be loved. Fact is, I'm the only one around..." She winces. "Or you really want to try it again because you think you've seen something there you want to explore?" She can still feel the touch of his lips on hers and if she's honest with herself, she needs to get away from him before they make a mistake they're going to regret come morning. She tells him the last part.

He winces too. "What if it's a little bit of both?" he says, tentatively closing the gap between them.

She sighs. "In which case I'll tell you this, John. If you need the touch of a woman tonight, you just need to say it and I'll forget in the morning it ever happened. If it's more than that though, be very careful with what you do because there will be no going back to where we were. You can't have it both ways." She steps back and offers him her hand. "Let's head back to the hotel. You don't have to answer me now. I'll just go to my room. If you need to talk, call me. If you want more, you know where my room is."

He sighs and takes her hand, reveling in the touch, not knowing how he's ever going to let go of it. He could slap himself for being so stupid. How could he come on to his best friend? He knows she's right, of course. But he'd like to have it all. He'd like them to have more without losing her.

She goes first on the elevator, contending it wouldn't be their best move to go up to their rooms on the same one. He is tempted to kiss her goodnight but doesn't. It wouldn't be wise. She thinks about the same thing but doesn't act upon it either.

He calls her ten minutes later. He tells her he's sorry he's put her under so much pressure. She sighs and tells him to shut up. "If there's one thing I thought we'd established by now, John, it's that we don't need to apologize to each other. We live and learn. We'll make mistakes. Let's just not burden ourselves with I should haves."

He falls silent but doesn't want to hang up. If he had been more cautious, they would be sitting side by side on his bed, watching some stupid show instead of being apart and miserable. "Louise, I want to come," he tells her, making her heart stutter, "but I won't. Right now, I need you more than anything but I don't want to waste everything we've so painstakingly built."

It hurts her to hear the pain in his voice and know how much he needs her to be there for him. "John, if you must, just come already! But don't play with my feelings. I entrusted you with my life and my heart a very long time ago. I won't survive that kind of betrayal."

She knows he's a sucker for gorgeous girls – everything she is not. The memory of his ex-wive talking to him at his father's wake is still seared in her mind – a reminder that no matter how close they are and how tenderly he often looks at her, she'll never be like the girls he's wooed in the past. And it won't change a thing that they've somehow overcome the grief of knowing Elizabeth will never come back or that she's been given a few years back by Michael.

They're not meant to be – the plain girl with a screwed up past and the rackish flyboy with looks that could melt any girl's heart away. Not that she has ever entertained the idea. Actually, she was content with having her very unique position at his side until tonight – until he made her feel like she could be one of those girls.

"Louise, are you listening to me?" he worries, not hearing her reply. He's just told her he'll have to suck it up. Period. But she's phased out as she sometimes does though it's usually food that makes her slide into an alternate universe, not him.

"Uh? What? Oh, sorry. I was just... woolgathering, I guess," she answers sheepishly.

"I said I must but I won't because it's not right. Look, I'm going to get a long, hot shower. It might help me sleep. I'll see you in the morning, OK?" If they go on talking, he's afraid they'll end up coming up with perfectly acceptable reasons for him to come to her room. Bad idea.

"OK." That's the shortest answer he's probably ever gotten from her. He's sure she's thinking the same thing.

"Good night, Louise."

"Yeah, good night, John," she replies with a humorless laugh, knowing none of them will probably sleep well that night.

They both only catch a few hours' sleep, looking drawn and miserable when they get downstairs early in the morning and wait for their government-issue ride to come and drive them back to the SGC. She looks very pale in the early morning light. He could slap himself, knowing he's responsible for it. She's biting her nails again, something she hasn't done in ages. He takes hold of her hand gently and keeps it in his much larger one. "Don't," she says, hastily removing it.

He looks hurt and very tired too. "Is it how it's gonna be from now on? Are you punishing me?"

Her bottom lip starts trembling. "I'm tired, John, and my defenses are down. I need to know where we stand before I let you close to me again."

Their ride arrives. They get their totebags in the trunk and are ushered in the back of the car. She'd hoped he'd ask to ride shotgun but he doesn't. It's a long ride and the close proximity is going to kill her. He sighs, seeing her sit on the very end of the seat, as far from him as possible. "Louise, please..." he begs.

"Where do we go from here, John? I asked you a simple enough question." There's a sharp edge to her voice.

"OK, well, if we must have this conversation, at least, let's not have it on Midway Station," he relunctantly agrees.

She cringes. She's thought about that too – the 24-hour quarantine. It was fine and dandy on the way here because nothing had happened yet and she just had to suffer through a night spent in cramped spaces with Ronon's very loud snoring. It hadn't seemed to bother John who'd slept through it like a baby. Now, it's just the two of them and they have this issue that might very well put an end to their friendship. She groans. "God, John, I'm not the one who started it, remember?"

He looks sheepish. "How could I forget if you spend your time reminding me of it?"

She pouts. He's right. She's not helping. "All right, I apologize. That was not very nice of me."

He nods. "Well, then, let's settle this. Louise, I need to apologize. All I said was true. I won't go back on it. It'd be a lie. But we can't let that hang between us, you're right. It was a stupid move. I should never have kissed you. But for the record, it felt right at that moment. And it still feels right to hold your hand, take you in my arms and even cuddle without us needing to go further. I mean, if that's what you want..."

He's waiting for an answer. She knows it must have been really hard for him to come clean about what he feels. He's not a man of many words with others and barely more talkative with her either. They usually have their own way of communicating that often does not require so many words. Rodney says it's creepy.

John is right. If she kept him at arms' length, it would only be to punish him – and herself into the bargain. She scoots closer. "I'm sorry. I just need to know if that has changed anything between us."

He smiles and wraps his arm around her shoulders, letting her lean into him. "If it has changed anything between us, Louise, it's that I've learned we're extremely good at doing the right thing. It was not the right moment for you and we were able to resist temptation for the sake of our friendship. I think we can surmise we will be able to do it again if need be. We should cut ourselves some slack here and indulge a little, since we know where to draw the line." He kisses her temple. "But I agree – no kissing. It wouldn't be wise." She sighs and closes her eyes, settling her head on his shoulder and soon falls asleep.

He leans his head on hers and closes his eyes. He's done the right thing, found the right words, even if it cost him dearly. She's said it – she wouldn't bear having her heart broken. Losing a friend is one thing. Losing a lover would probably be too much to take. He's been lucky until now but he might run out of luck someday and not come home to her.

TBC


	45. Chapter 45

_Chapter 45 – Midway_

They settle in their quarters at Midway Station after having a quick lunch with the rest of the staff on board. Dr Lee is training Kavanagh to replace him. Of all the bad luck they've had recently, this is the last straw. John offers to take her for a ride on the jumper. They spend a few hours outside, not wanting to return to the cramped spaces of the station, and take it all in – the beauty of the place she'd never have dreamed anyone – lest alone herself – could ever witness.

She notices he's more relaxed than he's been in days as he is flying the jumper around so she can see both galaxies. He smiles and tells her she's got stars in her eyes – a rare quality that is often lost when one grows older and becomes immune to the wonders of the world. "I guess I've never ceased to be a child, deep inside," she replies. "And I know you haven't either," she adds, handing him a lollipop with a wink.

They relunctantly head back to the station. It's evening – Pegasus time – so they head to their rooms after grabbing a sandwish and apple and sit on the bottom bed to watch a couple of movies on his computer. She protests when he chooses the second movie. Alien, of all things! On an intergalactic base of all places, to top it all! She rolls her eyes but relents when he uses his puppy look. She spends most of her time hiding from the screen, her head buried in his shoulder and her hands on her ears to muffle the screams from the massacred crew. He chuckles each time she cringes. It's not really fair but he needed to unwind and horror movies are very cathartic, notwithstanding the added bonus of having her where he wants – in his arms – without having to ask for it.

When the credits roll and he switches off the computer, she sighs with content and glares mockingly at him, pointing her finger at his chest. "You, Mister, are going to pay for it! I'm going to have nightmares for days."

He chuckles and wraps his hand around her finger. "Complain all you want, sweetie. I had to suffer through Pride and Prejudice for you. It was rightful compensation. I almost died of boredom," he says emphatically.

She chuckles. "No, you did not! Besides, why was it on your computer to start with?" she points out, making him squirm, knowing fully well he'd downloaded it so she could watch it again.

He raises his hands in mock surrender. "All right, you win! Now get your butt in the bathroom and get ready for the night," he says pushing her towards the door. "Who knows how long it's going to take you, woman!" She glares at him mockingly and sashays to the door, her pyjamas in hand.

When he returns from the bathroom, having changed into sweats, she's already lying on the bottom bed. He points at the top bed. "You do not really believe I'm going to sleep up there?" he sniggers.

She giggles. "First arrived, first served, John."

He narrows his eyes at her and bends towards her resolutely. "Scoot," he orders, pushing her to the far end of the narrow bed.

She pouts. "You really do not think we're going to sleep in the same bed?"

"Your choice, sweetie. You accept to sleep up there or you sleep with me. Which one will it be?" He waggles his eyebrows playfully. She can't believe he's gone from making amends for coming on to her to offering her to sleep in the same bed.

"John..." she whispers reproachfully.

He rolls his eyes, looking cheeky. "What? Think you'll come on to me if we sleep in the same bed?"

She snorts. "You wish!"

He lifts his eyebrows. "Well, then, scoot along, lady!"

She relents, hoping she will indeed not be tempted. He leans on his side, facing her, his bent arm supporting his head, his mouth barely an inch from hers. She closes her eyes for a brief moment, schooling herself. This is gonna be the longest night of her life!

"Do you want to sleep already?" he asks, after a few minutes. He's playing with her hair. She didn't use to mind but it's quite distracting and she's lost in her thoughts.

"No, I mean, not if you don't want to."

"Do you mind if we talk?" He bites his bottom lip.

She knows he needs to get things off his chest. They've talked a lot last night at the restaurant. At least, he has and she's listened. To stories of his youth, to his first years in college, even his wife – how sorry he feels he'd had to put her through all the secrets he'd had to hide from her because she didn't have clearance. He's told her how he wished he'd found someone who could understand he had to do it without needing to know where he went and what he did. He knows now that it was an illusion. Trust is earned, not granted blindly, and it's only now he understands his marriage was a failure in the making from the very start. She's cringed at his use of the exact words Beckett's mom had said to her but kept the thought for a rainy day, this trip being all about him, not her.

"OK, yes, sure. What do you want to talk about?"

"I don't know... How pretty you looked in that little black dress," he says innocently then smirks, seeing her blush.

"John..." she warns him.

"Not my words!" he says. She pouts. "No, really. Nancy mentioned it in passing when I met her later for intel. She asked who you were."

"And you said?" she prods, feeling uncomfortable.

"I said you were the closest to my heart," he says matter-of-fact. She gives him a warning look. "What else could I say? It's true, as is her mentioning how pretty you are. I know you don't see yourself that way, Louise, and you need to be told more often. You belittle yourself so much sometimes it infuriates me."

She shrugs, embarrassed. "That's who I am. You won't change me, John. Years of being told I was worthless are not easy to forget."

He caresses her cheek and lets his hand trail down her arm to entwine it with hers. "Don't worry," he says, seeing her hesitate. "I know the boundaries. No kissing, no coming on to you. I'm just trying to be tender, not flirty." She lets him have his way because she's not sure she'll ever be able to say no to him should he ever ask for more again. "What happened, Louise?" he insists. "I never asked, until now. I respected your need to protect your past. Never asked to read your file though I know by now, everything is in there – compliments of the IOA." She winces, realizing he knows what happened back there at the SGC. "I'm asking you now and if you don't want to answer, I won't ask again. God knows we're all entitled to our secrets. I just thought you might want someone to carry that burden with you instead of carrying it all on your own."

She's not planned for this to happens so soon though, come to think about it, they've known each other for years now. She gulps. She doesn't know if she's going to be able to do it. Talking to Ma Beckett was one thing. John is close to her heart. She's afraid of what she'll see in his eyes when she tells him the whole truth. But when the words start flooding, there's finally no stopping them.

She tells him everything. The car accident in which she lost her husband and kid in one go. The numbness she felt as she went to the morgue then the funeral home and finally the wake and funeral itself. How she never cried because she felt too stunned to do so. How people deemed her cold-hearted because of it. The shunning from everyone she knew, both relatives and co-workers alike. How she soon ended up finding comfort in alcohol to dim the pain and move through her days.

He knows the rest. The moment she woke up in a hospital bed, having almost slipped into a coma. She fills in the gaps, finally shedding light on why she has so few personal belongings.

"My in-laws challenged the will, taking me to court. That's when I snapped. I had decided to take cooking lessons and quit my job at the school. I couldn't take it anymore to see kids all day when mine was buried six feet under. I never finished cooking school. I upped and went on the spur of the moment, applying for a visa at the Canadian embassy."

He looks befundled. "You mean you have an estate somewhere that you left in the hands of your family and in-laws?"

She shrugs. "It was not worth the fight, John. It would have ended killing me. Even my own mother was very adamant I should have been in that accident. I guess she would have preferred for me to die and then get the pity and attention of her friends than have to explain why I was not in that car."

He rubs her arm affectionately. "Why weren't you?"

She looks up, tears brimming in her eyes. "Because we were on the verge of a divorce, John. For years, I had held on to the thought that he loved me though he'd very soon shown nothing but indifference for me once our son was born. That day, he told me he was going to his parents and I was not welcomed there. Had he loved me, I would have died that day. I guess the universe has a very twisted sense of humor."

He wraps his arms around her on instinct, feeling the rage bubble inside of him for hearing her mention her repeated desire to end her life. "The universe has nothing to do with it, sweetie, and though I'm so sorry for you you lost your child, I'm sure glad it brought you to Atlantis and to me."

She lets herself grieve openly for the very first time and weeps in his arms softly. It scares him to see her so quiet. He rubs soothing circles on her back then massages her spine up and down with his thumb and forefinger. She sighs, her head buried in the crook of his neck. He schools himself not to react when she moans and scoots closer, her body flush to his. He reminds himself of the decision he's made in the car. Knowing the whole truth about her past now, it would definitely not be a good idea to give in to temptation. She falls silent and he realizes she's fallen asleep in his arms – his own personal miracle. He falls asleep hours later, not having dared move.

She wakes up slow, her body warm and numb from a dreamless night. The room is dark but she knows on instinct she's not in her room. She remembers being on Midway Station. The memory of crying herself to sleep in John's arms reaches her slowly. She realizes she must have shifted in her sleep because her back is to him, one of his hands splayed on her stomach. His breath is tickling the nape of her neck. He still seems to be sound asleep. She tries to wriggle her way out, hoping he won't remember falling asleep with her in his arms.

His arm tightens around her. She stills, waiting for him to relax again. "You don't sneak on a trained CO, sweetie," he mumbles, kissing her neck.

She cringes. So much for trying to be discreet. "Hi," she replies.

"Hi yourself," he greets her, giving her one more kiss. Boy, is she in trouble! Apparently, a waking John is a cuddly John.

"John..." she warns him. "We said no kissing."

"Not true. We said no kissing on the lips. You never mentioned the other parts of your body," he counters wickedly, now wide awake. "We've agreed on not being friends with benefits. It doesn't mean we can't have any benefits..."

She can't help giggling. "You're a handful, you know that?"

"Uh, uh," he replies, nosing her neck and shoulder, and chuckles, obviously very pleased with himself.

"What am I gonna do with you?" she insists.

"You're gonna let me love you a little, cuddle you a lot and be your knight in shining armor wherever we go," he replies, wrapping her more tightly in his arms, wishing this morning may never end.

TBC


	46. Chapter 46

_Chapter 46_

 _Tonight, I'm in a very good mood. Just found green tomatoes at the supermarket so I made... fried green tomatoes and boy, did they taste good! Recipe on Tumblr. I also made raspberry streusel bars but that's another story. Send me a message if you want any of my recipes. So many of them. Sigh! Anyway, as I said, I am in a good mood and though swamped with cooking and baking, I did manage to post a new chapter for Louise (the prequel to this story) and another one for this story. Have fun!_

 _Spoilers for the Kindred, the Last Man, Search and Recue and the Seed/ end of season 4 and beginning of season 5_

She plops down on the seat next to Teyla. Her friend is sitting all by herself in the mess hall. "Hey, hi," she greets her. "What are doing here at such an early hour?"

Teyla gives her a tired smile. "I haven't been sleeping well, Louise. Nightmares..." she elaborates and pouts.

Louise pats her shoulder. "Yeah, I know, it's hard when you reach the last months. Getting nightmares is quite common. Sometimes, all you can do is get up and keep your hands and mind busy. Don't worry, it will soon be over."

Teyla looks at her surprised. "How..." she starts saying but seeing Louise's apprehension, stops in her tracks.

Louise sighs. "I... I was pregnant once. I kind of hated the whole period. Couldn't wait for it to be over and done with," she chuckles humorlessly.

Teyla puts her hand over her friend's and waits, not pushing. She's surmised a long time ago Louise has had a difficult past.

"He died in an accident, along with his father," Louise finally says. Now she's told John, it seems much easier for her to tell her other friends and now seemed the right moment to tell Teyla. "Anyway," she adds, smiling at her friend, "what I mean is I understand it's difficult and if I can do anything, I'll be there for you. You just need to ask."

Teyla squeezes her hand and nods. "I'm sorry for your child," she says.

Louise nods. " Your nightmares," she says, turning to the matter at hand, "are they normal ones or is there something weird in them?" She knows Teyla's gift is quite a burden for her at times.

"Rather the latter ones, I'm afraid. They're about Kanaan and it scares me. Deep inside, I'm sure they're still alive somewhere. I need to find them, Louise." She looks away and Louise sees the burden of this uncertainty is getting harder to carry by the day now she's not far from delivery.

"Listen. I have no say in the matter – what John or Colonel Carter decide to do – but I can tell you without the trace of a doubt that they'll do everything they can to help you find the father of your child and your people. I can't do much for you, Teyla," she adds, "but at least I can be there for you and the baby. You'll always have a family here, you know." Teyla nods. Louise is not the first person to tell her so and it warms her heart.

Louise turns to her, her eyes suddenly twinkling. "I know what I'm gonna do. You need a baby shower! Having a party before the baby is even there does wonders for the mother's mood and helps her wait until the time is due." She stands up, all business-like. "I'm going to talk to Colonel Carter about it," she says. "I'll be right back." Teyla shakes her head but has to admit she is glad to have such friends in a time like this.

The party is cancelled when Teyla disappears. Louise had everything prepared, gone over all the minute details, enquired into her tastes and pestered her about what she would want for the baby, efficiently deflecting her worries about her people's fate but clearly not enough to prevent her from leaving the safety of Atlantis. And now her friend is gone.

She's sitting in her kitchen at two in the morning, her hands wrapped around a cold cup of coffee, browsing her cookbook but not really seeing it. John has been gone for almost ten days too. They've tried every possible means to find his whereabout. To no avail. She's wild with worry. He's never been gone for so long and she fears he's lost to them forever. The thoughts spin endlessly in her mind – how she should have told them both how much she cared for them, how grateful she was to have them in her life.

At two thirty, Ronon walks into her kitchen and silently sits next to her. She glances at him and sighs. "Aren't you going to go to bed?" he finally asks gruffly. "Cuz you're sure worrying everyone." She lifts her eyebrows. He shrugs. "Colonel Carter sends me to say if you don't get some rest, she'll ask Jennifer to put you on sick leave. She means it," he adds.

She sighs and stands. "I can go to bed if you want but I can't sleep, Ronon. Sleep has been eluding me for too long. I'm on a roll," she adds humorlessly.

"More like a slippery slope, if you ask me," he mutters. "Get your butt out of here. I'm taking you to the infirmary. You'll sleep even if that means letting Jennifer sedate you."

She shakes her head. "I don't want to take medication."

"You need to be well and not on the brink of exhaustion when he returns," he states, leading her out of her realm.

"When?" she sniggers.

He gives her a scalding look. "When," he replies, his tone final.

And when he returns, she's there to welcome him, her heart beating so hard she almost passes out. Everyone leaves at a run towards the armory to gear up and head where he says he knows Teyla is. He only takes a few minutes to change and eat and drink something before he heads back to the gate room, his look determined but his shoulders sagging from exhaustion.

She's waited patiently outside the armory and when he passes her, he just stops for a second to give her a one-arm hug before they head back through the gate. He hasn't offered for her to come and she hasn't asked because she knows the answer – a stubborn no to put one more of his friends in danger. They haven't even had time to talk, just exchange a silent look and she's afraid they might not return alive and she'll never be able to tell him how much he means to her.

She's at the excavation site when they try to find the teams who've been buried in the explosion at the compound. Carter has allowed her to come, seeing how haunted she looks. They need all the help they can get anyway and Louise is very efficient under stress, it seems. She's in charge of a jumper and the food and water supply and is bossing her team around, knowing every minute counts. She doesn't even flinch when they're under fire, refusing to fall back.

She lets Wilson and Ridgeway in charge and leaves at a run when she hears they've retrieved the last survivors. When she arrives in the infirmary, he's already on his feet, demanding to be patched up so he can leave again.

She forgets about everything she wants to tell him – how much she's missed him, how sorry she is she never said it earlier – and comes to stand in front of him, majorly pissed. "John Sheppard, you get in that bed asap or so help me God..." she orders him, pointing at the bed beside him, a murderous look on her face.

He sniggers out of pure habit because that's how they function. She sees he's trying hard not to show how much pain he's in. "Léger, you're not my mother and you're not my CO so you don't get to tell me what I damn need to do. Get out of the way," he tells her not too gently. He grunts and she sees his hand reach for his side.

"Please, John," she begs him, all resolve of being strong gone now, "I'm begging you. Let others do it. You can't go back. It's going to kill you."

He shakes his head, refusing to look her in the eye. "I need to go back and you know it. She'd do the same for any of us." He looks towards Jennifer who's wavering. "Patch me up, Doc'. You know as well as I do there's no way around it," then he turns to Louise. "Before you ask," he says, knowing her too well, "I won't take you with us. And it's not I don't trust you, sweetie," he adds, laying his hand gently on her cheek, making her want to lean into his touch. She doesn't because they're in the middle of the infirmary and she doesn't trust herself with not stepping into his arms and kissing him before it's too late.

He sees how vulnerable she is and for just a split second, he entertains the possibility of taking advantage of it. He doesn't because it's not what he wants her to remember should he never return. It would be too much for her to lose him after that so he simply gives her a tired smile. "Louise," he says, laying his other hand on the side of her head and kissing her forehead, "I want you to be here when Teyla returns with her baby. And I want you to take care of them. I know for a fact she wants you to be part of their lives – help her with the baby, pass on your experience as a mother," he whispers so only she can hear what he's saying. "Don't deny me that comfort. I need to know she'll have someone to take care of her if we don't make it back."

Louise's eyes are locked with his. It might be the last time they see each other. The whole thing – Teyla's abduction, John's injuries, Carson's return – looks too much like a nightmare. One of her many nightmares about how this whole adventure should not, cannot possibly end. She whimpers and sees him flinch so she schools herself for his sake. "If this is what you want, John, so yes, I will be here waiting for you all to return." He nods and walks to Jennifer who's waiting to dress his wounds and give him some shots. He turns to her one more time. "Leave, Louise. This is no place for you," he says and she knows he doesn't want her to see how badly wounded he is.

Once again she sits in the kitchen, waiting. Wilson and Ridgeway have taken over, following her written orders posted on the board for the week's menus. She finally feels so useless she leaves them to it and heads for the balcony and sits there for hours, not moving. Chuck drops by to keep her company. He's the only who's dared approach her, apart from her under-cooks. He hands her a mug and sits next to her until she registers his presence and takes the mug from his hands. The aroma of the hot beverage reaches her, making her smile at long last. "Latte with brown sugar and cinnamon," she guesses.

He nods. "Dr Keller said you'd probably need the sugar in there."

"Has she asked you to keep an eye on me?" she scoffs.

"No Ma'am," he chuckles. "You're the one who takes care of us normally. It's only fair we return the favor once in a blue moon."

She smiles at him and takes a sip. "Thank you," she says, touched by his kindness.

"You're welcome, Ma'am." He licks his lips then adds: " You know, he'll return. He always returns."

She nods and they sit in companionable silence, watching the sun disappear on the horizon and the two moons appear in the darkening sky.

She feels a hand on her hair, stroking it gently and for a moment she wonders why she fell asleep on the balcony. She slowly wakes up from her slumber, her muscles cramped and her whole body screaming for a hot shower and painkillers – lots of them. She's fallen asleep in the infirmary, her head on her folded arms resting on the side of his bed.

Everyone has come back alive, if not entirely well, with Teyla and baby Torren as an added bonus and then, before she even had the time to reconnect with them, John was whisked away to the OR and she waited for hours to see him again, his waist wrapped in a bandage, an IV still hooked to his arm. She's adamantly refused to leave his side ever since and Ronon has informed Jennifer even he won't fight her on that.

"Hi," she mumbles and cautiously moves her head from side to side to remove the crick in her neck.

"Hey," he says, still playing with her hair. "You OK?" he asks.

She lifts her head and sighs with content, seeing him well and alive, but then rolls her eyes. "You are asking me how I'm doing?" she mocks him.

He smirks. "I'm good," he states. "And you don't seem to agree with spending a night on my bed," he banters back. "Maybe you should have considered getting in my bed instead..." he teases her.

"Here he goes again," they hear McKay's sarcastic voice as he enters the infirmary. "See," he informs Louise, "I'd told you so. I'd said the moment he woke up, he'd revert to his Captain Kirk evil twin identity and come on to someone. I'd told you to stay away from his bed!"

John makes a face at him. "I love you too, Rodney," he informs his friend with a smirk.

Rodney huffs. "Can I get the whole gang in here? Everyone was impatient to see you but that little lady here put her foot down and established a defensive perimeter," he sniggers, looking at Louise intently. She blushes a little, knowing how not very nice she'd been with them all, refusing adamantly to let them take turns by his side.

"Just give me a moment, Rodney. I'll send Louise to let you in when I'm ready," he asks his friend.

Rodney lifts his eyebrows but complies, leaving with a stuck up gait to make his point he's not too happy with being ordered out.

Jennifer has been informed he's awake so she comes to check on his bandage. "You're as good as new, Colonel," she says. "At least you will be when you've had a couple of weeks rest."

He pouts. "I'll make sure he does, Doc," Louise says, raising her eyebrows at him, making him know she's onto his case from now on.

He rolls his eyes and tries to sit straighter in his bed and grunts from the pain that shoots through his abdomen. "God," he groans. He looks away seeing Louise's worried look.

She and Jennifer use a couple of pillows to prop him up a bit and make him more comfortable. "I'm going to keep you in the infirmary for a couple of days, Colonel. If you play by my rules, you'll be allowed to return to your quarters, provided you drop by every day to check and dress the wounds," she informs him, giving him a look. She knows he's going to try and get out of that one too but his injuries were too severe this time and he needs to rest. Seeing him ready to protest, she adds: "Non negociable."

He huffs. "I think you're even worse than Carson."

She gives him a fake smile. "That's because I'm a woman, Colonel. And I also happen to have this lady here on my side so you'd better comply or she'll make your life a living hell," she sniggers. Louise snorts. She eyes John with a very wicked look. "I sure will."

He huffs. "OK, I'll do whatever you say."

Louise sees him bite his lip and knows he's just pretending. "Don't worry, Doc," she says, "I've got plenty of practice now. I know how to handle him."

He ends up getting two more days in the infirmary, his wounds not healing as fast as Jennifer expected, and then two and a half weeks off duty. He would hate it if everyone was not taking turns to spend time with him, knowing how idleness makes him antsy. He gets more movie nights, chess and card games, walks to the piers and naps then he's probably had in a year. He and Louise spend time with Torren too. Teyla asks them one night to babysit him. Kanaan has finally been allowed back on base and she feels it's a good reason to celebrate. Louise agrees and prepares dinner for them, setting the table for them on the private balcony she has in the kitchen. That way they won't be disturbed by anyone.

"So, you're ready to do this?" he asks her, standing in her doorway, bouncing on his feet, looking both eager and worried.

She sighs. "As ready as can be."

"Louise," he chides her. "if you're not, just tell Teyla. She'll ask someone else."

She shakes her head. "She has chosen us as his godparents, John. I won't bail on her. And I'm very fond of the kid."

"It's just it reminds you a little too much of Gabriel," he supplies, knowing what's on her mind. She has told no one else about her past yet, apart from Teyla who's not hesitated once when she chose the people who'd double as her child's parents should anything happen. She nods and smiles sadly and he pulls her in his arms. "Hey, I've seen how you are around Torren. You'll do just fine. And I trust Teyla's instinct too. It's no random luck she's chosen you to be his second mom. She knows you'll be good for him, as he'll be good for you," he whispers in her hair. She wraps her arms around his middle and sighs. He wishes she'd not allow herself such gestures of affection only when she has a moment of weakness.

She disentangles herself from his embrace way too soon to his liking but they have to go so he chooses to act cool and not needy and wraps an arm loosely around her shoulders. No one is around so she mirrors him and wraps hers around his waist as they walk towards Teyla's quarters. "So, what are we gonna do tonight?" he wonders, knowing watching a movie is not an option.

She holds up the tablet she's grabbed from her desk before they left her room. "I've got a few games on that one and books too. Something quiet. We'll be lucky enough as it is if we don't have to go round Atlantis, trying to make him sleep," she pouts. She was never too keen on taking the stroller at ten at night when she was bone-tired and wanted nothing more than hit the sack. Here on Atlantis, they don't even have one of these, nor do they have a car. Jennifer has mentioned it to Teyla – being lulled into slumber in her parents' car when she was but a baby. She tells John and his eyes light up like a Christmas tree. "We might not have cars or strollers but we have jumpers..." he suggests, giving her his trademark grin.

"Oh, no, Mister. You don't take the kid for a ride over the City just to put him to sleep! Anyway, Woolsey will never allow for it," she chides him and rolls her eyes at his immaturity. "Men!" she grumbles, making him snort.

Torren is having a nap when they arrive but almost as soon as his parents have left for dinner, he starts waking up and soon enough, he's screaming at the top of his lungs. John cringes. "Still think babies are cute?" Louise banters.

He sneers. "What do we do?" he asks, waiting for the expert to find a solution before he loses his hearing.

She chuckles. "We go for a walk."

They alternate holding the baby but it's soon clear it's John's arms he prefers so John settles him in the crook of his arm and folds his other hand around Louise's. She doesn't say anything until they reach the busiest part of the City, near the gate room. She then removes her hand from his gently. He bites his lip but doesn't say a thing, not wanting to sound hurt – which he is.

He changes arms and they head back towards Teyla's quarters with baby Torren finally fast asleep. He lays him gently in his crib and sighs, looking down at him then turns to her. "I agree that having a baby is not a walk in the park but I see why Teyla and Kanaan seem so happy."

She smiles at him. "Don't worry, John. One day, you'll have your own," she says sadly and turns to walk to the window, gazing at the City.

He comes to stand beside her. "I'm not sure I want children, Louise. It's not what I meant..." he says softly.

She glances at him then looks away. "But you probably will. All men do."

"Don't you want to..." He doesn't finish his sentence, not knowing how to put it.

"Have other children? Now I'm younger? Is that what you mean?" she asks.

"Well, yeah..." He knows it's a difficult subject.

"No, I don't. I had my chance. I loved my child but, truth be told, John, I think I was never meant to be a mother in the first place. I probably made a terrible mother. I was not patient, I was not resourceful. I always let my husband play with him because there was always so much to do it was too much for me to juggle everything," she confesses.

He scoffs. "Why do you always have to belittle yourself? I'm sure you were a good mother. Look at how much pain you still have after all those years. And if there's something I know about you, Louise, it's that you're a master at the art of juggling multiple tasks."

She pouts. "But I still don't want to have other children," she says firmly.

"And I got that. That's perfectly understandable. Though," he adds with a mischievous grin, "it's a shame if you ask me. My good looks and your fiery temper... That would make interesting babies!" he banters, knowing she's going to retaliate.

She does swat his arm and points at the couch. "Sit," she orders him.

He waggles his eyebrows but does as told and pats the seat next to him. "Night on the couch, uh? Cuddling is definitely on my list," he banters.

She shakes her head at his antics and settles next to him with her tablet. "Want to play a game of cards or chess?"

"Checkers," he replies. "If I win, I get to name our first kid."

She elbows him and hisses at him, not wanting to wake up the baby. "John Sheppard, you're impossible!"

He chuckles but wraps his arm around her shoulders all the same and pulls her towards him. "Yes, Ma'am," he says smugly.

TBC

 _Review, review, review! I live on feedback, remember? (well, and on good, homey food too!) ;)_


	47. Chapter 47

_Chapter 47_

 _Spoilers for Ghost in the Machine_

She's gone. Gone through the gate without a moment's hesitation, knowing all that was on the other side was nothingness and she would never see them again. He's standing in front of the gate, the last one to remain in the room, his hand still resting on his P90. These last few hours have been taxing, to say the least, and he doesn't even know if his feet will carry him back to the armory and then his quarters. He needs to rest. He simply doesn't think he can.

She comes to stand by his side quietly, a comforting presence in this moment of grief. "You need to rest, John," she points out, voicing out his own thoughts. "Exhausting yourself won't make Elizabeth come back."

The muscle in his jaw twitches characteristically. ""I know," he retorts more forcefully than he intended. God knows she is as affected as he is by Elizabeth's sudden return and immediate departure. They all are. It's just they have their own ways of dealing with it. Louise and him, they keep it all bottled up inside.

She doesn't flinch as she used to, back when they first met. She knows by now how to handle him in times like these. They've been through a lot together. They've finally found their pace.

She loops her arm in his and pulls him gently towards the door. "Come on," she says quietly. "I'll make you a turkey sandwish and tuck you in bed."

He chuckles humorlessly. "Lord knows you're much too young to mother me, Léger."

She shrugs as they head for the armory. "Might be so but you're not too old to be babied if need be!"

They drop by at the kitchen and she does as she told him. He sits with his head in his hands while she prepares him a late evening snack. He doesn't even remember the last time he sat to have the semblance of a meal. She sets a plate in front of him. "Eat," she orders, then fixes him a cup of coffee and gets him some dessert.

He shakes his head. "I don't need a sugar fix, Louise. I'm too wound up as it is already. Even the coffee might be too much."

"Want decaf?" she offers, tilting her head.

He looks horrified. "God, no!"

She chuckles and sits next to him. She remains silent as he eats. She nudges him when he's done. "Movie?" she offers. It's not their movie night and by now, everyone must have headed to their quarters but she knows she'll end up there anyway so she might as well offer him to come along.

"Chick flick?" he banters.

She gives him a quick smile, making him know she's seen he's making efforts at teasing her, as he usually does. "You choose, John. I don't really care."

She cleans the dishes and they head towards the TV room, falling into step as they walk in silence through the maze of corridors, each of them reliving the events of the last few hours, thinking about Elizabeth and how much they'd like her to be there with them.

" _I demand to see her, John! How dare you prevent me from going to her quarters?" she yells at him._

 _He stubbornly refuses to look at her. What he'll have to see in her eyes hurts too much. The same look she had when she'd told him he should have gone back for her, two years ago. So much as changed since then but one thing has not – Louise's loyalty to her former boss._

 _She gets into his personal space and shakes him by the arms. "I'm talking to you, John! Look at me, damn it!"_

 _He trains his gaze on her. He looks cold but she knows better. It probably would have been better if they'd never heard from Elizabeth again. Meeting with her clone had been painful enough as it was. "Told you already. We don't even know if it's her and even if she were, she's a replicator. We need to be extra careful. I will not allow you in there before I'm absolutely sure she's no threat to you." She huffs but seeing he won't relent, stomps out of his office. "Where are you going, Louise?" he calls her back._

" _Going to sit in front of her room until you decide she's no threat to her friend," she growls over her shoulder._

 _It's a few hours later and she's finally standing in front of Elizabeth. It's weird because she doesn't look like her and has taken the same body as that selfless creature Rodney had called Fran who had not hesitated a single moment to sacrifice her existence for what she'd been created. So appropriate, she reflects. She smiles at her friend and takes a step forward but the marines surrounding them are already cocking their weapons in Elizabeth's direction so she steps back and lifts her hands. "OK, guys, don't get angry. No foul play. I just wanted to hug my friend," she elaborates, earning a smile from Weir._

" _It's alright, Ms Léger. Why don't we sit down?" Elizabeth offers, motioning to the two armchairs facing each other. She looks so cool and collected when Louise's thoughts are a whirlwind of emotions. It's so Elizabeth to keep calm in such situations. She tells her, which makes her laugh ._

" _Oh, believe me, I'm everything but calm right now." She sighs then smiles at Louise. "How have you been doing, Ms Léger? Tell me about yourself."_

 _Louise laughs humorlessly. "You are asking me how I 've been doing?"_

 _Elizabeth shrugs slightly. "Reconnecting with you all keeps my mind off my own worries. I'm sure glad to see you all again."_

 _Louise nods and complies. "I'm doing good. As you may have noticed, I've had quite a few years given back to me..."_

 _Elizabeth nods. "John mentioned it, yes. At least Michael did something good and selfless for once in his life."_

 _Louise shakes her head. "Sometimes I wish he had not done more than cure the concussion."_

 _Weir looks surprised. "And why is that?"_

 _Louise shrugs. "Magic always comes with a price, Ma'am. Michael's gift came with quite a few unintended consequences. I..."_

 _Elizabeth chuckles. "Teyla told me about it."_

 _Louise lifts her eyebrows. "All of it?"_

 _Elizabeth nods and chuckles some more. "I know things didn't turn out the way you expected but I'm sure glad you tried your hand at living for once, Louise, and I hope you will again."_

 _Louise laughs humorlessly. "Oh, believe me. I won't be caught in that position again! I've learned my lesson well!"_

 _Elizabeth watches her cautiously then answers quietly, lowering her voice so only Louise can hear it. "On the contrary, Louise, I think you should. You deserve it. We should always choose life."_

She gulps, her hand over the sensor of the TV room. She's gotten lost in her thoughts and hasn't noticed she was crying. John's hand is on her shoulder, warm and comforting. She doesn't move nor does she look at him. "She said one should always choose life... How could she not follow her own advice?" she whispers, her bottom lip trembling.

He squeezes her shoulder. "I guess because she did what she thought was right for her City. She chose our lives over hers. But still, it was choosing life all the same."

She turns to him and sighs, tears in her eyes. "I feel so sad for her, John. So sad for everything she could have had. It's so not fair. I was the one who didn't care one bit if I lived. Why wasn't I the one allowed to make the sacrifice?"

He looks away. He hates it when she cries. It makes him want to run for cover. But she needs his support so he looks down at her, his hazel eyes stormy from the frustration and anger she's so apt at stirring in him. "Don't you dare say that, Louise. Life sucks. Period. You don't get to choose who's going to make the sacrifice and who's going to live happily ever after. It doesn't work out that way. And before you say anything else, think about how hard it is for me – for any of your friends – to hear you say such things. After all this time, you still believe you being alive is a mistake of the universe? And you have the guts to look me in the eye after seeing Elizabeth go through that gate not an hour ago and tell me you wished you were lost to me forever too? You feel sorry for her? Well honor her memory by enjoying life, damn it!"

She cringes and looks so sheepish he can't remain angry at her. "Come on," he says, passing his hand over the sensor to open the door. "Let's go watch a movie."

They sit in companionable silence and watch the first part of Gone with the Wind. She hasn't seen it in years, actually since she was in college and studying American history. It was John's choice and it does seem appropriate to their own little world – the end of an era. She's sure glad he hasn't picked one of his space operas or a war movie. No matter how many of those he's made her watch, it still gives her the creeps. She suspects he likes to torture her with those. "Why did you choose a chick flick after all?" she teases him, tickling his side.

He huffs. "So not a chick flick!"

She shrugs, seeing Rhett Butler dodge Scarlett's pointed throw in the library. "Well, I don't see how different those two are from modern movie couples. They distrust and even hate each other at first. They fight. They bicker. But in the end, he'll get the girl!" She realizes it quite fits their own situation too, except for the last part – a thought she's never allowed herself to entertain, even after their night on Earth and the subsequent evening on Midway Station. They still have their routine of teasing each other, sometimes dangerously bordering on flirting, but she's never allowed herself to get any closer to the edge and she's sure glad of it now. Seeing Elizabeth, it's reminded her of the possibility that her two friends could have had much more, had they been given enough time. She sighs profoundly.

"Are you sad for Rhett?" he teases her.

"I always thought pining for Scarlett when he could have any other woman he wanted was pretty sad, don't you think?" She briefly smiles then looks into the distance.

He rubs her arm and then wraps his around her shoulders. "Come here," he says softly and kisses the top of her head. "We've had quite a long and difficult day. Try to relax." She settles against him and lays her head on his shoulder. Soon enough, she falls asleep and cuddles closer. He doesn't bother to wake her up and take her back to her quarters because, to be honest, he needs her right here in his arms, preferably the whole night if nothing comes to disturb their sleep. He shifts on the couch so they both lay on their sides, facing each other, her nose buried in the crook of his neck. He prays nobody will enter the room tonight. He really doesn't mind the gossip it would start but she might not see things through his perspective.

" _I'm glad you and our little cook haven't torn at each other yet," Elizabeth has teased him._

 _He has allowed himself to spend some time with her, even though he isn't sure at the time it is really her and not another one of those sneaky creatures posing as her. He chuckles. "Not yet, but it's just a matter of time," he banters back._

 _She smiles. "Actually, John, I thought by now you'd have seen the light..."_

 _He lifts his eyebrows. "Meaning?"_

 _She shakes her head, clearly disappointed. "I've been gone for two years, John. I thought by now you two would have realized such a close friendship cannot mean just that. Aren't you two tired of bickering all the time and not going forward instead?"_

 _He winces but decides to ignore the true meaning of her words. "Ah, well, that's our routine, you know. That's how it works, 'Lizabeth. It always has."_

 _She nods in agreement. "And yet, you cannot tell me, John, you're satisfied with being so lonely – neither of you," she points out. He startles. So unlike Elizabeth to state the ugly truth. She smiles and tentatively lays a hand on his. He's sent the guards away, contending he can take care of himself and certainly doesn't need his men to overhear his conversation with his long-lost friend. Now he's sure glad he has. "I don't want to make you squirm, John. I know you're not a people person. You don't talk easily about your feelings. I just wanted to make sure you understood the chance you two have to have each other. Life is short, John, and the future is uncertain. Make the most of your life while you can. I do not regret anything. I do hope no one in our City, and especially you, John, will pass the opportunity to get their happy ending."_

He wakes up around four. Her head is still tucked under his and one of her arms has sneaked around his waist, drawing him closer. He breathes in and out, schooling himself. He hasn't forgotten their last evening on Earth or their night on the bunk bed. He hasn't forgotten how good it had felt to hold her and wake up with his arms around her, how his spirits had lifted in spite of his grief. It seems history repeats itself and she only allows herself to warm up to him when he needs it the most and only then. He remembers coming clean about it with Teyla one day, one more day when he had allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to make it a constant in his life.

" _She says she has learned her lesson, John – the hard way. She does not want to let anyone near her again. You can't blame her. She has never been lucky until now. She has taught herself to believe it is not for her and that she doesn't need it," Teyla had said._

He sighs in her hair and she shifts in his arms, cuddling even closer. "God, Louise, you're killing me," he whispers in her hair, more to himself than to her.

He thinks for a moment she's heard him because she starts talking but she's just mumbling in her sleep. "John, please, don't... Don't leave me alone."

He wraps his arms tightly around her and rubs her back gently. "I promise I'll never leave you."

She must be half-awake now because he hears her mumble "Don't make promises you can't keep. Everyone leaves me. Can't beat fate." Then she falls asleep again.

He makes the silent pledge that he'll honor Elizabeth's sacrifice by trying to live according to her conversation with him and that no matter what, he'll always try to come back to Louise. But the rest of Elizabeth's hopes for them lays in his stubborn little cook's hands.

When he wakes up an hour later, she's gone. He must have been sound asleep for the first time in months not to feel her slip away. He finds her in the kitchen, planning the evening meal in honor of their lost friend. She looks deceptively cheery as she's writing a new entry in her leather-bound cookbook.

He kisses the top of her head, still feeling sleepy, and plops down next to her. "You writing for who this time?" he asks.

"Elizabeth. She told me yesterday about how she missed food, experiencing new tastes, but most of all sharing a meal with us all so I thought we could..." she asks tentatively. He nods quietly and she rewards him with a smile and a peck on his cheek.

"What will you cook?" he wonders, looking at her open cookbook.

"She mentioned a few things I'd prepared a couple of times and she remembered. I thought we could have those tonight."

He walks her to her quarters that night as he always does but she doesn't let him in.

"I was kind of hoping we'd finish watching that movie," he mentions, hoping to lure her back to the TV room.

She shrugs but shakes her head. "Look, I'm tired and I'm sure you are too. I don't want to be rude, John, but you have to understand – last night was a one-time thing."

He nods ans tries to hide his hurt. "Sure, tired, one-time thing, got it. Rest well," he says and rubs her arm before heading back to the nearest transporter.

None of them gets much rest that night.

TBC


	48. Chapter 48

_Chapter 48_

 _Spoilers for the Shrine_

Her door chimes and wakes her up from yet another fitful dream with a start. She fumbles for her watch. It's two in the morning. Whoever is at the door had better have a good reason for waking her up. She trudges to the door and passes her hand over the sensor. The door whooshes open revealing a very weary John. He's wearing the sweats he usually uses as pyjamas, including that very cool t-shirt he's so proud of. His hair is even more ruffled than usual but what strikes her is his gaze. "Something happened to Rodney?" she asks hurriedly, her heart suddenly beating two hundred miles an hour.

He shakes his head. "Not really, but I did just walk him back to his quarters."

Ever since Rodney has started having symptoms of that degenerating disease, she dreads the moment when someone will come to tell her he doesn't even recognize his closest friends anymore. She's seen it in her grandmother's eyes, that last year of her life when her mother had had her hospitalized and she would not even recognize her our daughter or grandchild. She doesn't think she'll be able to live through that again.

John combs his hand through his hair tiredly. "Look, I just wanted to..." He sighs and doesn't finish his sentence. She chides herself for being so selfish and thinking only of her own emotions. John is under a lot of stress, being the one whom Rodney clings to. He's barely been able to file a report or have a moment to himself since the whole thing started. He's there for McKay contantly, even sometimes at night, only leaving his side when the other man has finally gone to sleep.

She motions for him to come in. "Why don't you sit down and tell me what's wrong?" she offers.

"More wrong than ordinary?" he counters sarcastically as he sits on her bed.

She sighs and kneels behind him then starts massaging her way down – from his head to his shoulders. He's incredibly tense but slowly relaxes under her ministrations while he tells her how McKay got to his room a couple of hours ago and they had ended up on the pier, sitting and having beer.

She slaps his shoulder and growls. "John! You made him drink alcohol? What were you thinking?" she demands. "Have you ever thought for a minute about asking for Jennifer's permission first?"

He turns and grabs her, making her tumble on his lap then sits her next to him. "God, Louise, stop doing that, damn it! You leave bruises, ya' know!"

She rolls her eyes. "Sorry," she drawls, not looking sorry at all. But pissed she still is. She narrows her eyes at him. "As I can smell, he was not the only one drinking," she points out. "How many beers have you had?" she demands.

He shrugs. "Stopped counting after the third," he answers casually.

"How many beers did you give Rodney?" she wants to know.

"A couple. No more," he answers sheepishly. She's right. He should have asked first though when he left Rodney, he seemed just fine.

"Is it two or three?" she prods. He shows her two fingers and hangs his head. He's suddenly very tired and feels his limbs are heavy. She relays the information to the infirmary, asking them to check on Rodney, just in case, and call them if anything is the matter. "Let's hope not," she adds, pouting.

"He was just fine when I left him, Léger. Actually, he seemed more relaxed than I have seen him in a while," he says for his defense.

She rolls her eyes. "I bet he was!" she sniggers. "As are you..."

He glances at her sheepishly. "Sorry..."

"No you're not," she counters, knowing him. "Now, if you want to stay here," she adds, knowing he's come here because he can't take it to return to his quarters now he's awake and face the ugly truth alone, "go brush your teeth. There's a brand new toothbrush in the bathroom's drawer that's been dying to meet you... I guess," she says sarcastically.

He returns a moment later and gets into bed beside her. She turns off the lights and turns on her side to face him. "You OK?" she asks. Bitchy as she felt when he first announced her he'd taken Rodney for a tailgate party, she gets the point now. They need to connect as much as they can and Rodney needs to relax. John too.

"Yeah," he mumbles, feeling drowsy. The bed is already warm from her earlier sleep and her body radiates heat, beckoning to him. He scoots a little closer. She pouts in the dark, thinking how easily things could get heated in such an emotional moment but he needs her so she schools herself and pulls him closer. He wraps his arms around her waist and buries his head in her neck. "For what it's worth," he mutters. "I really am sorry I didn't think of the consequences."

She nuzzles his neck and kisses it. "Who am I to judge?" she answers self-deprecatingly.

When they decide to take Rodney to that shrine Ronon has told them about, she declines, connecting with Woosley instantly. He's been through the same experience. Ronon too, but he was just a little boy at the time. She was older and remembers it vividly. A whole year seeing the most important person of her childhood go from one wrinkled but perky lady with a sharp tongue and the memories of a lifetime to a shrivelled old woman who would not even remember the recipes she'd made thousands of times or that two of her own children had already died years earlier, asking about them incessantly.

John knows all this and so much more. They woke up that night in her room after a few hours and couldn't get back to sleep so she settled against him, her head in the crook of his neck and her hand on his chest and they talked until the wee small hours of the morning before heading to the still eerily silent kitchen for freshly baked waffles and coffee she made with him, working side by side in silence.

"Tell him I love him," she instructs John, handing him a few containers with Rodney's favorite food as they gear up to leave for the shrine. "I packed you guys a picnic. If he's up to it, it'd be good for him to, you know, have a party..."

She's wrapped her arms around Rodney ealier on, in the infirmary, telling him she loves him but he already doesn't remember who she is and has screamed at John for help. She's got tears in her eyes when she sees them leave through the gate. Mr Woolsey takes hold of her elbow and steers her gently towards his office. "Why don't you sit down, Ms Léger? They'll probably be a while." He knows she doesn't want to stray too far from the stargate, in case they'd hear from the team.

After a few hours though, they're bored of playing chess and checkers and she offers to cook something so they head for the kitchen where he came quite a long time ago to evaluate her ability to stand up to the former chef.

They devise quietly about quite a few subjects and one leading to another, they end up confiding in each other – him about his father and her about her grandmother. She's long surmised he's not the stuck up, useless prick he appeared to be at first but that day, he wins her respect once and for all and her friendship too. He's donned an apron as if it were the most mundane thing in his world and helps her chop vegetables and onions. She shows him how she makes what has come to be known as Kavanagh's vegetable crumble around base, recounting him how he had been a snotty prick and had tried to wring her arm so she'd cook only what he wanted. Woolsey watches her intently as she tells her story, brushing off the tears that well up in her eyes regularly – because of the onions, she contends. Those are happier times she's recounting and he sees she needs to cling to those memories. "I'd like to go back in time, Mr Woolsey," she confesses as she puts her finishing touch to her crumble.

"There's nothing we can do to change the course of time, my dear, though General O'Neill might have recounted you his team's very unlikely trip," Woolsey points out. "And if we could, it's dangerous to gamble with our timeline."

She nods and pouts. "I know. But history repeats itself, it seems, and with hindsight, I wouldn't make the same mistakes twice."

"And what would that be?" he prods.

"Let people into my heart and then lose them all," she answers bluntly, on the spur of the moment.

"I have an inkling this is not the first time you think about that, Ms Léger..." He looks worried, seeing the grief in her eyes.

She shakes her head and sits at the table where he joins her. "John – I mean, Colonel Sheppard – doesn't like me to say it but it's true," she exclaims. "I don't know how much more heartache I can take, Mr Woolsey. Rodney's disease has taken a toll on all of us, especially John. I'm not sure I can take it."

"But you'll be there for Colonel Sheppard." It's not a question but he sees her flinch. "What is it, Ms Léger?" he asks, seeing her look away.

"Thing is, Sir, Colonel Sheppard has been through a lot recently and I have tried to be there for him but he's asking for more than I can give," she answers, flushing with embarrassment. She doesn't know where that came from. She shouldn't be discussing her private relationship with John with no less than her boss – though it's true every time they fall apart or bicker, the whole base is likely to suffer from it as well.

"Richard," he counters. She looks up in surprise. "This is a conversation between friends, worrying about a mutual friend, so Louise, I'm Richard here, not Mr Woolsey."

She smiles at him and mouthes "thank you" which earns her a smile and a pat on her hand.

"If I may, Louise," he says, glancing at her and seeing her nod, "Colonel Sheppard and yourself have a very unique relationship on this base. I must say, as the leader of this expedition and his superior, I'm counting on you to take care of him in such difficult moments. As a friend, though, I can only say one thing – if you're uncomfortable with where your friendship with him is heading, I would advise you strongly to think about what you want and discuss it with him." She pouts but remains silent. "History seems to repeat itself, indeed, as this conversation reminds me of another friend of yours with whom you had difficulties clarifying your "friendship"..." he adds, making her blush. He smiles gently at her. "Louise, I'm not trying to make you squirm here. You're past the age when I could chide you. But if you want a different perspective on the matter, I'd say you can't turn a blind eye on what you two have. Or some day soon, you'll regret it."

She blushes some more. Clearly he doesn't mean what she thinks he's meaning? "Are you suggesting I'm being purposefully blind?" she counters, tilting her head to the side, regarding him cautiously.

"I'm not saying you're doing it willingly," he answers softly, before standing and walking to the door, after glancing at his watch. "I'll be right back," he says. "I need to see the techs. Think about it, Louise," he adds.

They never get to eat the crumble together because John returns with the whole team, Rodney included, and they ended up sitting in the mess hall and having that party after all.

John notices that, though very cheerful and sociable that night, she's more guarded with him than she's even been before, not letting him sit next to her but rather sitting purposefully between Ronon and Rodney as if those two could guard her against him. His suspicions are confirmed when she declines leaving with him to return to her quarters, preferring to stay behind to "tie loose ends" before she hits the sack, not letting him help when he offers. He suspects something has come up to make her become more reserved, though if he's honest about it, he knows he's pushed her limits a lot ever since his father's death – something she might not be ready for, in spite of all the contradictory signals she's sent him recently.

TBC


	49. Chapter 49

_Chapter 49_

 _Before we begin, don't forget about the prequel called Louise. It will tell you a lot about Louise's feelings towards John._

 _Spoilers for First Contact and the Lost Tribe_

"Louise? Hey! There you are!"

She's currently sitting with John at the table in the kitchen, planning the arrival of a dignitary from one of the planets they want to trade with. Woolsey has asked them to work on making him feel at home and what better way to do so but organize a welcome dinner.

She turns to the door and jumps to her feet, a huge grin spreading on her face that mirrors that of the newcomer. "Dr Jackson! You've arrived!" she exclaims and walks to him briskly.

He wraps his arms around her to give her a bear hug, rocking her from side to side. "I've missed you," he says as he breaks the embrace but keeps his hands on her shoulders, observing her. "You look good. How have you been doing?"

She nods. "Good, yes. You?"

He grins. "Couldn't be better! I'm here to find that secret lab of Janus's, ya know?" he says conspiratorially and winks.

She laughs. "I should have known you were here to unearth something!" she teases him, still grinning.

"And see you into the bargain!" he replies, ruffling her hair.

She hears John clear his throat behind her. "Oh, hey, Dr Jackson, this is John Sheppard," she says turning to the man who's now standing with his arms crossed over his chest. She detects a trace of annoyment in his eyes but ascribes it to Daniel's boiterous ways. She knows for a fact it does piss off Rodney.

Daniel walks to the other man and extends his hand. "We have already met, though briefly. Colonel Sheppard," he greets him with a broad smile. She sees John is trying to be civil, though barely. He shakes the other man's hand and greets him with a stilted: "Doctor."

Daniel turns to Louise. "We were on our way to the lower sections of the City, getting ready to work, when Rodney mentioned you had made that praline brioche I'm so partial to. He said you might still have some so I decided to take a little detour. I didn't even know you were here. Thought you were on a mission off-world..."

She laughs and walks to her pantry to get some brioche, talking over her shoulder. "I was supposed to but Mr Woolsey decided welcoming our new allies to Atlantis would be a good way to start the negociations. We were planning it with John when you arrived."

"Shrewd negociator, that Mr Woolsey. He knows how to use his assets!" Daniel banters. He turns to John who's sat back at the table. "They don't stand a chance with the food she makes."

"I know," John says more curtly than he had intended. He sees Louise stare him down so he amends. "Yes, she is indeed our best asset in food negociations."

Louise has finished preparing a tray for Daniel that she hands to him. "Here you go, Dr Jackson. The strongest coffee I have and some brioche that will keep you going until lunch time."

He thanks her with a smile and a kiss on her cheek. "Thank you, young lady. I'll see you then. Say," he adds, "if I can take a break, what about having dinner together? It would be nice to catch up."

She smiles fondly. "Sure. I'll make time for you. See you then."

He leaves with his tray in hand, whistling, after bidding them both a nice day.

She sighs with content and wheels around, a huge grin plastered on her face. "Well, this is an excellent day," she informs John. He does not reply so she insists. "Don't you think? Daniel, the secret lab, our food negociations..." He grunts noncommittally. "Well," she teases him, tickling his side, "I know someone who's gotten up on the wrong side of his bed."

He huffs and stares her down. "If you say so... I'm off to seeing Woolsey," he adds, glancing at his watch. "I'll see you later."

"Hey, we've not finished here," she protests.

He huffs again. "Louise, there are other matters I need to attend to. We've made good progress already. Send me a memo when you're done with it."

She looks crestfallen. They were having such a great time until Daniel arrived. She doesn't understand what's happened to put him in such a foul mood. "Will you come around for lunch?" she asks him hopefully.

He shrugs indifferently. "Don't know. Might not have the time. Besides, it's not as if you needed the company now Jackson is here."

She watches him leave the room, dumbfounded. _Now what was that about?_

They have found the lab and have been working on it for hours, neither of them wanting to let the other one be the first to discover something. It upsets her to see Rodney and Daniel act like kids. Everything is a competition for Rodney but she has to admit, Daniel doesn't know how to let go either. Very much like John, she reflects, rolling her eyes.

She's left trays of food for them both at the lab and been greeted as if she were a godsent. It's amazing the amount of food they're able to wolf down when those two work! Rodney has fussed a lot about where she would leave the trays, in case something dropped on their precious artefacts. She's looked around the lab briefly before leaving, her eyes twinkling at seeing so many Ancient objects but Rodney has pushed her gently towards the door, in spite of Daniel's protests she could stay and maybe help them.

She's aggravated because she's not been allowed to see everything. Most of the objects are inactive and for all they know, some might not even be of any worth, but there's that cool piece of technology she's caught a glimpse of before Rodney ordered her to leave that was blinking, beckoning to her. But Rodney knows she's like John – unable to not touch things – so he prefers her out of the picture and ignores her plea to look at precisely said object.

When they disappear, she's finally accepted the fact neither John nor Daniel will spend time with her at the table that night and has opted for eating alone in the kitchen before she turns in for the night. She's walking back to her quarters, feeling despondent, thinking about how the day had started brightly but ended on a bleaker note when she hears the alarms of the City and runs back to the nearest transporter to get to the Control Room, knowing there must be intruders in orbit or near the City. She watches helplessly as the alien pod passes the defenses of the City, getting inside the shield as if it were not there. John and his team leave at a run but they can't get to Rodney and Daniel before it's too late and the pod has left with them, taking them to who knows where.

He finally returns to see Zelenka who's desperately trying to locate the pod, to no avail. She's tried to remain calm during the whole invasion but now she needs to do something – anything to help her friends. She approaches John and lays her hand on his arm tentatively. "John," she says quietly. "What can I do to help?"

He glances at her briefly. "Not your job, Louise. If you want to help me, get back to your workstation," he says sternly.

She rolls her eyes, pissed. "Come on, John. You know I go bonkers when my friends are in danger."

He huffs but relents. "OK" He turns to Amelia who's currently relaying his orders as he assesses the situation and makes quick decisions to ensure the City won't be invaded again. "Get her a jumper. We need as many people in the air as possible to establish a defensive perimeter," he says, pointing with his thumb at Louise who grins. She leaves at a run to the jumper bay but he calls back after her. "Léger," he barks.

She skids to a halt and turns. The room is full of people, watching them. It's no secret the 2IC and the head cook have a fiery relationship. "Yes, Sir," she answers respectfully, knowing it's no time to remark he could call her Louise, given everyone knows where those two stand.

"You do only what you're told, understood? I have no patience for reckless people around here right now," he adds, leveling his gaze with hers.

She nods quietly so he motions for her to proceed. She grins and leaves and he shakes his head, wondering if he might have made the wrong decision here. She's gained a lot of confidence since her first mission off-world – too much to his own liking.

He calls her about an hour later and tells her to report to the Control Room. She scowls but has no choice but to relent. He's already in the jumper bay when she arrives. She watches him intently, waiting for him to explain his decision. He leads her back in the jumper and makes her sit on one of the benches. "Drop the attitude, Léger," he tells her, seeing the permanent scowl she's sporting. She rolls her eyes, making him huff in exasperation. "Sweetie, I really don't have time for your teenage rebellion. I called you back because I need you here. I'm leaving Amelia in charge of the operations but I obviously won't be here, should those guys return so, against my best judgment, and because I have no choice, I need you in the Chair," he explains patiently.

He gets a broad smile in return and a bear hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," she gushes.

He shakes his head at her antics. "I don't have the time for more training sessions and I know we only did that once but you did fire a drone the first time I showed you so..." He hates having to ask. The only time he let her try using the Chair, the half hour she spent there drained her and she had to get a shot of glucose to compensate for the exertion.

"It's OK, John," she replies. "If need be, I'll do it. Go get them. It's the only thing that counts right now. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

She's halfway to the Chair room when it happens. A blast of such magnitude it rocks the City. She taps her headset and calls the Control Room but only gets static in return. She finally gets Teyla who tells her hurriedly what happened. All transporters are temporary down from the surge of energy and she has to make her way on foot to the infirmary where she's been informed John and Radek have been taken. One of the medics blocks her way when she tries to enter. "Colonel Sheppard said not to let you in. It's not a pretty sight to see, Ma'am. You need him to be patched up before he'll allow you in," he tells her, making her growl in frustration.

"I'm not a kid and it's not my first rodeo in the infirmary. Damn it!" She huffs and starts pacing when he stomps through the door.

"Léger, stop being a pain in the neck!" he orders her. He's shirless and when he turns to get back inside she sees the red marks from the shattered glass that hit him. On any other occasion, she'd probably have sniggered inwardly at herself for gawking at his taunt muscles but now all she can think of is how he must hurt. "Stop gawking," he sniggers anyway, not turning back to her.

"You're impossible, Sheppard," she retorts, blushing.

He smirks and winks at Teyla. "I know," he replies smugly. "OK, kiddo," he tells her, as he's putting his shirt back on, "now you know I'm OK..."

"Sort of," she counters and he rolls his eyes.

"As I was saying, Léger, before being so rudely interrupted," he sniggers, not wanting her to win that one, "now you've seen with your own eyes I'm alive and standing, I need you to return to the Chair room and stay there. And get to the armory to get a walkie-talkie. If we lose power again, you'll want to remain in contact with the temporary Control Room."

"What are you gonna do?" she calls after him as he leaves the infirmary.

"Figure something out, I guess," he answers tiredly.

He's assigned one of the techs to her and she gets an update every half hour. Cooped up as she is in the windowless room, there's nothing she can do but wait aimlessly for any good or bad news coming her way. She's still there when Chuck relays the information to her the Daedalus is on his way with everyone on board. She breathes out and leaves the room, glad she hasn't had to get in the Chair after all. She checks on her kitchen and then goes to wait in the infirmary, knowing Daniel will be beamed down there as soon as the Daedalus arrives.

She sits in a chair outside the infirmary until she's allowed in. He beams at her when she enters. "Now, that's a comforting sight," he tells her and makes her sit on the bed beside him. She smiles at him but sobers up when she sees John enter and scowl.

She kisses Daniel's cheek. "Are you hungry?" she asks. He nods with a smile so she tells him she'll be right back and exits the room with John in tow.

"I was looking for you everywhere," he tells her, his eyes boring into hers. He huffs. "I should have known," he adds nastily.

She lifts her eyebrows. "Well, your mood has clearly not improved since yesterday," she sniggers. "FYI, Sheppard, I always come to the infirmary when one of my friends is hurt. Lord knows I've spent quite a few sleepless nights here over the years for you all but most of all for a snarky friend of mine," she adds pointedly. He knows it's true but he's always surmised she'd always check on him first and this time, she hasn't – and that pisses him off.

"No hugs and kisses as I return home this time?" he can't help countering.

She shakes her head sadly. It seems all he does these days is point out what she does wrong. And he did call her a rebellious teen! She looks up and down the corridor but sees quite a few people coming their way. "It wouldn't be wise, John. Given the amount of people around," she elaborates, glancing briefly at a couple of medics passing them.

He knows she's right but can't shake off the angry feeling building in his chest. He realizes he'd like her not to care. The hell with the consequences. What are a few snarky remarks and knowing looks if you can have the comfort of a friend's arms? He huffs. "Excuses, excuses, Léger," he retorts pointedly and walks away.

Daniel spends a few more days on base, making Rodney antsy every time he walks into Janus's lab. He doesn't like to have the guy around. Too much competition. He's been charming with Keller and that's another problem. One of the many problems actually. Rodney has noticed how John's look mirrors his own when Daniel sits next to Louise in the mess hall and converses with her. When he takes walks with her to the piers.

When Louise offers to take him for a tour of the City in a jumper, that's when John puts his foot down. They're all sitting at a table at night – the whole gang, Louise, Daniel. He mentions how beautiful the City looked from the Daedalus and she offers, on the spur of the moment, to ask permission to take him. John growls. "Permission not granted, Léger," he snarls.

She makes a face. "I didn't ask you, Sheppard," she retorts. "I was going to ask Mr Woolsey. I'm sure he'll be much more flexible than you are," she points out.

Daniel barges in. "No need to fight over me. If it's too much trouble, I'll pass," he says with a smile.

John rolls his eyes but refrains to say what's on his mind – that Daniel is a hollier than thou ass to him.

Louise grabs John's arm and makes him stand. "Need to talk to you in private, Colonel," she hisses through clenched teeth. "Asap," she adds, pulling him towards the balcony.

He follows her relunctantly, earning himself an amused look from Rodney who knows he's gonna get a talking to. True, he's still at odds with Daniel but John has earned it all right for being such an arse.

"What?" John barks at her as soon as they're outside.

She swats his arm viciously. "You, prick. What got into you? Ever since Daniel arrived, you've acted like a jealous kid. What's wrong with you?" she demands, hands on hips and eyes dark with anger.

He looks away, feeling uncomfortable with her pointed remark about his jealousy. He'd hoped she would not notice.

"I said, what's wrong?" she demands, crossing her arms defensively on her chest.

"Might be," he mumbles.

She narrows her eyes at him. "I didn't get that. Can you repeat it out loud?" she prods. She can't possibly have heard what she thinks she has. Not again!

"I said I might have been jealous. Look," he adds hurriedly, "I don't like the way he's around you – charming his way into your free time. I haven't seen the likes of you ever since he's set foot on the City."

She rolls her eyes at him. "I can't believe you had the nerve to say it, let alone repeat it, John! Every single time some man so much as talks to me, you go nuts. It's getting old, ya' know."

He looks sheepish but she keeps glaring at him. He needs to understand once and for all that if ever she finds the courage to even entertain the idea of them two being more than friends, it'll have to be on her own terms, in her own time. He can't go on edging closer while he keeps others at bay, hoping she'll relent.

"It's so not true," he counters, pissed she's seen right through him. "I let plenty of men approach you."

She gives him a look – one that says "Really? You think I'm gonna believe that fat lie?" - so he pouts and falls silent. "John, I'm begging you. Stop crowding me. I'm your friend. That's a given. Do I really need to say it? That you're my very best friend – the closest person to my heart. So please, don't push my limits."

He huffs. Even the kind words cannot suppress the embarrassment at being caught red-handed. She uncrosses her arms and tugs at his that are still stubbornly crossed over his chest. "Come on," she says softly. "Truce?" He doesn't relent so she flies into a rage. "Damn it, Sheppard! Do you always have to win? Does everything have to be a competition with you? Can't you just accept to let go for once? What if I did the same? I can't believe you're being jealous of the time I spend with other people when you ogle everything that wears a skirt!" she growls, royally pissed. "You know what?" she adds, pointing at him. "Daniel is leaving in two days and until he does, I'm gonna spend as much time with him as possible. Deal with it!" She stomps to the door before he can process what she's just said. He huffs and shakes his head. This is so not what he wanted to achieve. He could slap himself for being so dumb. And jealous!

He shakes hands with Daniel before the latter leaves. They're in the gateroom, waiting for the Daedulus to beam him up. "I got hell from a certain lady friend of ours for being rude to you so, eh," he says, embarrassed, "I'm sorry."

Daniel gives him a broad smile and chuckles. "She's a bunch of wild cats when she gets mad. I got on her wrong side a couple of times. Oh, boy!"

John nods. "Sometimes I think she's too much to handle."

Daniel's eyes crinkle with mirth. "Yeah. But I'm glad to see she has found a home here and good friends too. And you don't need to apologize. I kind of feel protective towards her too. She's been through a lot." Chuck signals for him to get ready. "Take good care of her," he tells the other man before being beamed up.

TBC


	50. Chapter 50

_Chapter 50_

"John, please, let me help," she says, walking briskly into his office.

After the fiasco of Janus' device, John has agreed to help the Travellers start a new settlement. With the help of McKay and a team of various scientists, they've narrowed down a list of habitable planets that would suit the settlers but of course, everything remains to be done. That's where Atlantis comes in. They've had a lull in their missions so Woolsey has agreed to lend a few teams to help with the settlement.

John gives her a tense smile. Ever since Dr Jackson has left, he's been avoiding her. Getting caught red-handed at being jealous is clearly not something he's proud of. "Sure, of course. You can help," he answers against all odds.

She lift an eyebrow. "I thought you were gonna say no," she points out.

He sniggers. "Well, I guess you don't know me after all," he says, tilting his head. "But make no mistake. You don't get your own jumper nor do you assemble your own team. You don't stray and if I say fall back, you fall back. Deal?" He narrows his eyes at her and waits. The ball is in her court.

She nods, pouting. He still doesn't trust her to take care of herself but she wants to go with them because, to be honest, she's heard too much about those Travellers not to want to meet them.

"What can I do to help?" she asks and sits on the other side of his desk.

"Well, for one, I need to know how much food we can spare. We owe those guys, so Woosley has agreed to help them every way we can. But right now, I think food and shelter are the most pressing issues," he informs her.

She nods. "OK, well, we have enough to feed an army in the storage area. I can leave Wilson here and take Ridgeway with me. We'll bring staples. Things that don't need to be refrigerated. And go from there – evaluate what they need for their first few months. We've done it before for the Athosians so I know what to expect." She settles in her chair and twiddles her fingers, her mind already on the task at hand. He knows she lives for these moments. It makes him want to smile – seeing her so eager to get on a new job, have new projects and help people. He doesn't because things are tense between them at the moment. He reflects that this might be a good thing. Going off-world together can help them reconnect. Here, they avoid each other. There, they'll have to spend time together.

"OK, that sounds like a plan." She raises to her feet but he motions for her to sit back. "I'm not done yet, Léger. I meant it when I said I want you to follow my orders. I'll be your CO out there and I want no slacking of discipline," he tells her pointedly.

She bites her lower lip. "You don't want them to think you're a softy," she teases him.

He growls. "Louise! I don't give a damn shit about what they think but I do know one thing though. Things rarely pan out the way we'd want them here, in the Pegasus galaxy, so I need to be sure my teams will be as safe as can be. And what's good for the others is good for you too. You don't get a free pass to doing whatever enters your reckless brain." She glares at him. "And drop the attitude, lady! Out there, I'm not your friend. I'm Colonel Sheppard, military commander of Atlantis, understood?" She pouts, fuming. He can be so impossible sometimes! "Understood?" he repeats and stands, staring down at her.

She raises to her feet slowly, her hands on the arms of the chair, locking eyes with him. "Yes, Colonel. I heard you," she barks before leaving the room.

They arrive early and set to work immediately, unloading the crates from the jumpers and setting up a large tent that will serve as a temporary kitchen then she and Dusty start preparing breakfast. They'll be in charge of feeding all the people, Lanteans and Travellers alike, who are building shelters.

Before he leaves to help the guys from engineering, John approaches her. She's already working on preparing the midday meal, breakfast having already been served on tables outside the tent. "You make quick work. That's good," he compliments her. She glances at him briefly and gives him a tense smile.

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir," she answers curtly, making Ridgeway's eyebrows shoot to his hairline. What got into his superior? He's the only one in the tent at the moment and when only he or Wilson are around, those two don't bother with protocol. He has noticed though that for some weeks now, Sheppard doesn't call her sweetie but only uses her last name. He cringes inwardly. Dr McKay is probably gonna grumble again about those two's constant bickering and he'll be right.

John approaches her and looks around. He nods at Ridgeway who leaves the tent quietly. "Louise," he chides her.

She turns to him and lifts her eyebrows expectantly. "Sir?"

He huffs. "God, Louise, stop it. There's no one around."

She makes a face. "You've got to choose, Colonel. It's either Louise or Léger and Colonel or John. I'm getting tired of trying to follow you here."

He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "Can we agree on John when we're alone and Colonel the rest of the time?"

He's not touched her ever since Jackson has left. She sighs. "OK," she agrees.

He leans in and kisses her temple. "Good. I'll drop by later. We'll pitch our tent near the temporary commissary," he informs her.

She turns to him, nonplussed, so he elaborates. "You didn't really think I was going to let you out of my sight? You're staying where I can see you."

She doesn't say a word so he takes it as a yes and leaves, feeling relieved she hasn't rebuked him. They've always shared a tent off-world. If she agrees to it now, maybe it means things can still be mended.

It's late at night when she finally walks to their tent and settles for the night. He's not arrived yet. He's told her at dinner he'll probably work a little more on the first building which is almost complete while they still have enough light.

She sits outside the tent, in front of the fire, and thinks about the people she's met today. She's especially fond of that young girl – Mila – who came back for seconds tonight when she served pies she's baked back on Atlantis. She's a sweetie and Louise cannot imagine how such a young girl can live on ships all the time and be a chief engineer at such an early age. As dedicated and smart as she is, Louise has discovered she's also only a child who had bright, eager eyes when John started telling stories to the other kids at dinner time. Mila didn't dare get closer and listened to him from afar. She must deem herself too old for such childish activities so Louise motioned for her to get closer and they both sat next to John. He scooted so they could both fit in next to him, Louise's arm brushing his, but he did not so much as glance towards her.

She's seen how Kanara and Larrin and some of the other leaders are watching him intently. They're evaluating their new partners. Things have been tense up until now so they must be wondering if this partnership is worth it. John hasn't told Louise but he's walking a fine line here, trying to project the image of a laid-back and yet efficient leader. Woolsey believes they should tread cautiously with their new friends and John has agreed. He doesn't need Larrin to believe he's got a weakness she could exploit. You're never too cautious.

She's met Kanara and Larrin today. Kanara, when she came for breakfast after John had left. She likes the gal. She came to thank her and her team for her help and worked with her on a list of food ingredients they're in dire need of. Louise has told her she'll establish a proper list and have to talk to Colonel Sheppard about it. She was careful not to use his first name but refer to him respectfully, as instructed.

Larrin, though, is a different matter. She suspects she's on an agenda. Sure they do not have an easy life but it doesn't give her the right to tread upon people like she does. She doesn't have access to the reports detailing the missions on which he encountered Larrin, but Louise has an inkling Larrin is shrewd and played him several times. She's seen John try to get on her right side several times today, being patient while discussing what needs to be done first, and she doesn't like the looks of it at all. It's not that she's jealous. She thinks he's got the right to see anyone he wants – simply not that sneaky alien woman. She sneers inwardly. John can be such a sucker for women sometimes! Can't he see she doesn't care one bit about him?

She huffs and looks around but he's still not there so she stands and walks towards what is to become the center of the settlement. They've built a bigger fire there. It's too dark outside now to work though some people are still at work in the tents surrounding the area.

Only a few people are still outside, sitting around the fire and among them are John and Larrin, sitting side by side and conversing in hushed tones. She feels her anger flare. She's been sitting for almost an hour waiting for him to finish work and he's been there all along it seems, chatting up that brunette? She heads back to her tent, her fists clenched at her sides. The cheek he has! He read her the riot act for spending time with Daniel not a month ago and now he's trying to charm his way with the Travellers' leader?

She gets into her tent and starts packing hurriedly. She'll not stay here and have to witness this farce.

"Louise, hey, hi," she hears behind her so she wheels around. Mila is smiling at her but sobers up when she sees her new friend's murderous look. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong," she replies but her body language belies her words. "I've just decided to head back to Atlantis. I'm obviously not useful here. Our guys have everything pretty much covered," she adds, sniggering at her own sarcasm. "I'll return in the morning with the food Kanara has asked for." She hands Mila the list they jotted down together this morning. "Give this to Colonel Sheppard when you see him, please, and tell him I've decided to put the free evening he's granted me to good use."

Mila nods. "But you will return, yes?" she asks hopefully.

Louise gives her a non-committal smile. The hell she will! "And you'll come and visit me on Atlantis," she replies. She likes the kid but wants nothing else to do with her leader. "Be sure to tell them, OK?"

Mila nods again. "Are you leaving with your subordinate?" she asks, referring to Rusty.

Louise shakes her head. "Nope, don't worry. He will be there tomorrow morning to serve breakfast."

"So, who's going with you?" Mila worries. "We've always been instructed to never head through the stargate on our own."

Louise shrugs, though knowing she's breaking the rules here because they have the same instructions on Atlantis. "No one. I can take care of myself."

The gate is heavily guarded but she charms her way with the team on duty and tells them she's going back to Atlantis for a short trip to get some more food.

"Did Colonel Sheppard allow for it?" she's asked.

She looks indignant. "Of course, he did," she lies, knowing she'll get hell from him later but not caring right now. They let her go, knowing how basic rules sometimes do not apply to their commander's best friend.

By the time Mila has handed the list to John and told him what Louise has said, it's already too late. The orders he barks in his walkie talkie of not letting her step through the gate and wait for him to get there arrive just as the puddle whooshes close.

She steps through the gate on the other side, expecting to see the sight of Atlantis' comforting gate room but is sadly disappointed. She's just sent her IDC and received a go-ahead in return so what she sees boggles her mind. She looks round and sees she's stepped back through the exact same clearing she came from. The sights are unmistakably the same with the same ridges in the distance but no one is around. She looks round and breathes in and out slowly, trying to figure out what happened and what to do next. Should she head for the settlement and see why no guards are at the gate or should she try to dial Atlantis again?

She's pondering it when she hears rapid footsteps approaching the clearing. In spite of all the training she's received, she's never been in a situation like this before, having to make a quick assessment of the situation and subsequent decision, and by the time she does, trying to run for cover is already too late.

Two men with an air of authority on their faces and clearly aristocratic garments and followed by guards with crossbows at the ready reach her and seize her. "Who gives you the right to approach the Ancient Ring?" one of them demands, his eyes boring into her.

She tries to free herself fom his iron grip, to no avail. "I'm a traveller," she explains, trying to remain cool in spite of the disastrous situation she knows she's gotten herself into. "I got the address wrong as it appears. I won't bother you further. Just let me dial my homeworld and you'll never hear of me again," she bargains.

The men sniggers. "Traveller? And you don't know this planet is forbidden to anyone? No one gets in, no one gets out, lady. Now," they say, tugging hard at her arms they've bound behind her back, "you're coming with us. You'll be tried for your crimes and most likely executed."

TBC

 _I love cliffhangers. Don't you? ;)_


	51. Chapter 51

_Chapter 51_

 _I hope you liked the angst in the previous chapters. One chapter tonight for both stories – Louise and Seasoned with Love. Enjoy and review!(pretty please? Puppy looks)_

They've thrown her into a cell and taken everything valuable from her – her watch, her bag, her IDC, her sidearm, even her vest. It's cold and humid in there and she's feeling the cold start creeping her up arms, making her shiver. She doesn't know how long she stays there before a guard enters the room and grabs her not too gently without a word, pushing her along a gloomy corridor. "Where are you taking me?" she demands only to be met by indifference.

She's led into a chamber where the same men she's seen before, plus another one, are sitting behind a long table. She's made to stand in front of them. "What is your name?" one the men asks, not giving her time to ask her own questions.

"Louise Léger," she simply says, seeing for the time being, the only reasonable response is to comply.

"Where are you from?" That's a tricky question. She's not supposed to reveal the location of Atlantis and should be lying but she'd rather die than give it to them so she decides to come clean, hoping it will help. Atlantis has quite some leverage now on their partners around the galaxy. It might make those guys think twice if they're still entertaining the idea of punishing her for stepping through the gate.

"Atlantis," she answers and sees the look of fury in their eyes.

"You're lying!" one of the men bellows. "The Ancient City was destroyed long ago. No one survived the Replicators."

She shakes her head, feeling there's something terribly wrong here. "No. The City was dormant, not destroyed. Surely, you've heard of us – the Lanteans? We wish you no harm!"

The men look very upset. "We have had no contact with any other civilization for centuries and we wish for it to go on as our forefathers declared. The rule admits no exceptions."

The cogs are turning in her head. No contact with anyone and yet they're talking about the destruction of Atlantis. Where has she landed? Provided she's still in the same universe at all.

"We've searched your bag," they go on and one of the guards sets it on the table. "And have found very strange objects in there. We wish you to tell us what they are," the elder orders her.

She shrugs despondently. "You're going to kill me anyway." She's trying not to panic but if she's landed in another reality as she surmises or way back in time, there's no way John will get to her on time, provided he's even realized she's gone. He's probably too occupied flirting with Larrin at the moment.

"We can make it more painful..." he counters, making her fear creep up her spine. He gets a few items from her bag, including her medical kit. She eyes it knowing she'll soon need a new shot and food too if she doesn't want to collapse. The stress is not helping either. She feels weak but tries to keep a brave front.

He pushes the IDC towards her, then the P14, then her medical kit. She names the items one by one, spending more time on the last one. "I have a disease and this is what I need to survive," she says, tentatively opening the bag. Surely these people cannot be so cruel they'll refuse her to be treated properly while she awaits trial?

She gets her device she uses to test her blood sugar level and shows them how it works. That's when it happens. She's not demonstrated how the other two items were working so they're just inert objects for them but when she activates her device, it beeps, making them stand in alarm and point at her, their eyes wide with fear. "That's witchcraft!" The guards grab her from behind and make her fall on the floor where she cowers under the bows they've trained on her.

She slowly lifts her hands in surrender. "I never meant to scare you," she apologizes. "Surely you know of technology if you know about the existence of Atlantis. Let me explain. It's just an object used by our doctors. There's no magic into it."

"Technology was banned from our world by our founding fathers, way after Atlantis was destroyed," one of the men informs her, his face white with rage. "So was medicine. They are a plague for our souls." He puts all the items back in the bag and hands it to one of the guards. "Destroy all this immediately. The population must not even know about it."

"No!" she screams. "You don't understand. If I don't get my medication, I'll die."

"You'll die anyway," the elder replies sternly. "We are going to gather a few of our citizens and you'll stand trial for appearance's sake but you can already prepare your soul. You'll be accused of witchcraft and proof will be brought forward. You do not stand a chance."

She thinks about what John would do, should he be in her shoes and sneers. "What evidence?" she mocks him. "You've just ordered it to be destroyed!"

He sneers. "That, yound lady, won't be too difficult to find. That fair skin you have indicates freckles and moles will certainly be found on your body." He leans forward. "The mark of the devil..." he hisses. He motions for the guards to remove her from his sight. "Our population doesn't take too kindly to witches. They'll gladly watch you burn at the stake."

Her eyes widen with fear. She's landed in a Medieval, backwards society and yes, she doesn't stand a chance. She's inherited it from her father's side of the family. Aiden had nicknamed her Lily when he'd seen her in her swimsuit at the beach because of her fair skin and John always makes sure she puts sunscreen on when he takes her offworld or to the beach to surf. It's always been a joke among her friends as has been Rodney's and above all John's "little witch" nickname but here, it will be her death sentence.

By the end of the next morning, she's too weak to stand and they decide to ajourn the trial after barely an hour. The population is upset and the elders ponder executing her that very day but they need to set an example and she's a godsent.

They've given her bread and soup the night before that she's refused to take, only drinking the water from the pitcher they've set on the floor next to her straw mattress. It's not been enough though to stave off her thirst and keep her sugar level from reaching dangerous limits and she's not been allowed more. She sees they want her alive and standing so she bargains for more water in exchange for eating a little. She's asked for her insulin but has never received an answer about it and surmises it's been destroyed.

She tells herself if she can last a little longer, maybe McKay will figure out where she is and how to get to her but it's now only a flimsy hope in her delirious mind. She's feverish and the elders, seeing she won't last long and won't give them the satisfaction of confessing that she is indeed a witch, even under the duress of torture, finally decide the next morning the execution will take place at sundown.

"You need to work faster, Rodney," John growls at his friend, peaking over his shoulder for the umpteenth time that morning. "Jennifer says she won't probably last more than forty-eight hours before she get into a coma if she doesn't have her insulin. She had barely what she needed for a couple more shots when she left. The rest is still in the medical bags."

Rodney slaps his hand on the table, making a hell of a noise. He turns to John and glares. "I know! And before you say anything else, Sheppard, you're not the only to care about her. I'm doing everything I can. We've figured it out but if I don't narrow it to the moment she stepped through the gate there, we will never get to her on time. I guess retrieving her body is not one of your options, right?" he sniggers. He sees John's murderous look. "Well, then, if you want to get to her while she's still alive, let me work!" He turns back towards his workstation and ignores him altogether so John huffs and leaves the room, his hands in his pockets and his shoulders sagging.

Ronon reaches him as he's halfway down the corridor. "Hey, buddie, he's doing everything he can. I don't know how those archeologists found it in the ruins and I still can't wrap my head around this whole AU thing, but if it can save her, you have to stay put and keep your fingers crossed, OK?"

John gives him a tense smile. "Yeah. But it kills me to be here and do nothing."

"That's not true," Ronon counters him. "With what they discovered at the ruins, we now know it's not the first time it's happened. You acted fast and made sure no one else got lost and that's doing something." He checks his gun and smirks. "And when Rodney is ready, we'll be ready too."

They hear Rodney yelp then leave at a run, right on cue. He skids into a halt in front of Sheppard and allows himself one of his impossibly arrogant "I'm the smartest guy ever" remarks then adds with a blinding smile: "Let's go get our little witch."

"What have you got for us, Doc?" John asks Jennifer, looking as if he were going to explode any minute. He's been pacing up and down the hall for the last fifteen minutes, not even hearing Ronon's remark that he's going to dig a furrow in there if he doesn't stop soon.

She pouts, looking worried. "She was in a coma when you got to her. What do you expect? She's dehydrated, starving and her blood sugar level is gonna take time to reach acceptable levels. No irreversible lesions to her kidneys, eyes or limbs though and that's the only good news I can give you. She has three broken ribs, one that almost punctured a lung, and she's got burn marks all over her body." She is looking at John at the moment so she can't see the others' reaction but his eyes widen in fear. "I told you," she says, "it doesn't look good. I'm treating the burns to avoid infection and if she responds to the insulin treatment, then I'll consider her on the mend. If not though..."

He gasps. "This is a nightmare. This can't be happening," he adds, rubbing his hands on his face he hasn't had time to shave since she disappeared. He's barely caught a few hours sleep. They all have. "Look," Jennifer says, laying a soothing hand on his arm, "I don't want to scare you. And if we want to look on the bright side of things, she was not sexually assaulted."

He nods, looking murderous. "I killed a few of those bastards but if they had, I'd have to go back to finish them all," he says through clenched teeth. She gasps at the unrepressed anger, knowing it's no empty threat.

"Can we see her?" Teyla asks softly.

Jennifer smiles. "She's flickering in and out of consciousness. Give her a few hours and I'll allow you to see her."

They take turns waiting in the corridor while the others grab a quick lunch and shower. Rodney returns to his lab to run simulations with Zelenka on the malfunctioning gate. No one is allowed to step through the gate until they find a solution.

She finally wakes up in the afternoon of the next day, her condition having gone from worrying to recovering.

Jennifer makes it sure everyone understands she must not be kept talking for more than a few minutes at a time, being still very weak. John calls dibs and no one refuses him to go first but Jennifer stops him before he reaches the room. "She doesn't want to see you, John," she informs him, looking embarrassed.

He gasps. "Why?"

"Something to do with how battered she looks at the moment, as I gathered. But I think it's also got to do with the reason why she disobeyed your orders and lied to return to Atlantis," she replies. "Give her some time," she advises him.

"The hell I will," he says, pushing her aside and entering the room.

She's propped up with a couple of pillows and is still hooked to an IV. He sees bandages on her arms and knows there must be more. Jennifer has told him she's counted a couple dozen burn marks all over her body where they tried to burn moles and freckles. She's worried about it and has contacted Beckett to get his expertise. He'll be there shortly to assess the damage.

Louise looks away when she sees him enter. "Why can't you leave well enough alone, John? I told you to stay away from me," she whispers.

"And I won't let you keep me at arms' length, Louise. I've had my share of whumping and you were always there for me. What's so different?"

She shrugs. "I'm a woman. It's not sexy to be whumped," she replies sarcastically.

He chuckles. "You think I'm sexy when I'm whumped? Well, that's good to know! Next time, I'll use it at my advantage."

"I hope there won't be a next time," she whispers back.

He sighs and falls silent. Jennifer enters the room. "Colonel, I'm gonna ask you to leave now. Louise is tired. She needs to rest. You've seen she's alive. The rest will have to wait." Her tone is final and he agrees he must not strain her.

He nods and approaches the bed to kiss her forehead but she turns her head to the other side. "You've heard the Doc, Colonel," she rebukes him.

He's not allowed in her room in the next few days she spends at the infirmary. She's made it clear to Woolsey she does not want him there.

He pouts but relents. "But, Ms Léger, you need to understand you won't be able to keep him at bay for much longer. There are matters to be answered and as military commander of this City and head officer on that mission, it's his right to ask you questions and subsequently discipline you."

She looks away, ashamed. "I know, Sir. I'm just not feeling up to it right now. And you can make the decision yourself if you want. No need to go soft on me because I almost died. I'm guilty of all charges."

"And have to send you back to Earth for disobeying our orders? No, thank you," he answers and stares her down. "You did put us in a very difficult position, Ms Léger. I do not wish to discipline you or have you removed from your position but you won't get out of this unscathed. As for now, I must warn you of one thing, though. Colonel Sheppard might be tempted to ask for your head for putting your life in danger and disobeying his orders as well as lying about what he'd allowed you to do," he points out, making her turn beet red, "but John Sheppard was wild with worry when you disappeared and your friend will demand answers. You'd better be prepared to give them and make amends."

She reflects upon it as she leaves the infirmary, finally being allowed to return to her quarters some days later. She's asked Jennifer to give her a head start before she informs the CO. "Crap," she mutters when she sees him walking towards her in the corridor. He's been obviously waiting for her.

"Crap indeed," he replies with a sarcastic smirk. He crosses his arms on his chest and regards her coolly. She winces, knowing what's next. "Before you head back to the infirmary to yell at Jennifer, you need to know she didn't rat on you. I've been monitoring the cameras since this morning, knowing you'd probably be discharged today."

She nods. "Fair enough. So, what's next? Where do you want to give me a talking-to?" she sneers, looking more confident than she feels.

"Talking-to doesn't even come close to describing what I have in store for you, Léger," he warns her, narrowing his eyes at her.

She cringes and motions for him to follow her. "Well, then, let's get this over with. My quarters?" she offers.

He nods and falls into step with her. She doesn't try to make light conversation. The thoughts are spinning in her mind faster and faster as they approach her room. How is she gonna explain to him why she acted so recklessly?

They get inside and she waits until the door has closed before turning to him. He watches her and gets into her personal space, surprising her. "Before we start with the "talking-to", Louise, I need to do something if that's OK with you." She watches him as he gets closer and lays his hands on her shoulders. "Permission to hold you in my arms?" he asks gently. He hasn't for some time and he needs to make sure she's still OK with it. "Cuz I sure thought for a whole forty-eight hours we'd lost you and that has haunted my dreams ever since."

She walks into his embrace and wraps her arms around his middle but soon whimpers when he wraps his arms more tightly around her shoulders. He pulls away and looks her in the eye. "You still hurt?"

She nods, wincing, tears brimming in her eyes.

"Ribs?" he asks.

She shakes her head. "The burns. They're still not completely healed. Jennifer said they'll leave marks but apart from that I'm OK, it seems."

"I'm sorry," he simply says, caressing her cheek.

She sighs and chokes back her tears. "Not your fault. It was my stupid mistake. I'll have to deal with it. Please, stop stroking my cheek. It's distracting, especially when I know you're going to yell at me."

He shakes his head. "I'm not going to yell at you. I might have if I had not been given time to cool off but I've had time to think, seeing how you forbade me to keep you company," he points out and she hears the underlying reproach.

She pouts. "But you're still going to discipline me for disobeying you..."

He nods. "I need to or soon, there'll be mayhem all over the City. I need to set an example."

Her eyes are now red with unshed tears. "That's what they said to me... That they were using me to set an example," she whispers.

He wraps his arms around her once more. "Louise, I'm so sorry. It's not what I meant. You and everyone else here need to understand how wrong and reckless and stupid what you did was. And for what, might I ask?"

He looks at her expectantly and she sighs. She cannot possibly say it. It's not acceptable. Acting out of pure jealousy is not acceptable – especially after telling him so not so long ago. "I wanted to get back to Atlantis to gather some more food..." she starts.

"Enough," he bellows and sits her on the edge of her bed then crouches in front of her, his glare boring into her frightened eyes. He looks pissed and there's a dangerous edge in his eyes. "You and I both know this is a fat lie, Léger, and an insult to our friendship. I want you to come clean about why you left in such a hurry or I'll do it myself. Don't think for an moment I'm a complete idiot. I did not make it to Lieutenant Colonel by being cute and dumb!"

She shakes her head. "I can't," she whispers. If she says it out loud, he'll act upon it and she's not ready for that.

"Vey well," he says, looking hurt. "Then I'll do it myself. Mila came back with that list of yours and the intel you'd headed for the gate by which time it was too late to stop you. When I wondered aloud why you'd done such a stupid thing when I had promised I'd be down at our tent shortly, she said she knew jealousy when she saw it, confirming my doubts. Now, are you jealous of Larrin, Louise?" He looks into her eyes and waits, his jaw clenched but she doesn't answer and looks away, tears of shame burning in her eyes. "Are you?" he growls. He wants nothing more than to shake her to put some sense into that thick head of hers but he knows her wounds are still healing so he schools himself, slowly breathing in and out.

"I..." she hesitates, feeling they're back to square one and she's going to push him away again just so she won't have to suffer more than she already has.

"Don't lie to me, Léger. You've already pushed my limits too far," he warns her.

She nods and breathes out. "What I'm going to say, I want you to tuck it away in a distant corner of your mind and not use it against me." She waits for him to comply. He nods relunctantly so she knows there's no turning back now. "Ever since we went back to Earth together and spent the night on Midway Station," she whispers, looking away because the memories are too sweet and she needs to be brave here, "you've edged closer and closer, both physically and emotionally. And our recent run-ins with quite a few difficulties have not helped. I've let you get closer because we both needed the comfort of each other's arms." She gulps. "I'm not accusing you of doing it on purpose, John, but you've pushed the limits of our friendship to the breaking point. You cannot tell me you're jealous of men spending time with me and expect us to still be just friends. It's either one or the other, John, and given your reputation and seeing how you've been acting around Larrin, I cannot allow this to go on because, yes, I unwilling felt that pang of jealousy shoot through me when I saw you two together simply because at one point, your attitude towards me let me entertain the idea that there could be more to our friendship than I'd ever imagined. And it's not fair to me, not fair at all, because we both know you'll always feel the need to be Captain Handsome and I cannot simply compete with those girls. Look at me! Look at you!" she scoffs dejectedly.

He gasps. "Louise, no, let me explain..." but she cuts him in.

"There's nothing to explain, John. My bad! I'm ashamed of feeling jealous when I know we'll never be more than friends. So," she adds, and he feels those butterflies in his stomach grow to epic proportions, "from now on, I'm gonna be more guarded. I'm not ending our friendship," she goes on, seeing his look of apprehension, "don't worry. I'll always be there for you. But no holding hands and no nights in each other's rooms. And you need to start seeing other people and let me do the same if we want this to work. It's high time everyone stopped seeing us as an item. It's clearly not healthy for any of us."

He gulps. "Can we talk about the jealousy thing?" he asks, not wanting to let go without at least putting in a good fight.

She shakes her head and looks away. "We don't need to talk about it because it won't happen again," she says pointedly.

"Louise, you're not being fair here," he accuses her. "You're back-pedalling as you always do. Living is forward, you know," he points out, "not backwards. It's normal to have relationships evolve."

"Well, that's the thing, John. I don't want to change a damn thing. I'm moving backwards because you forced me to. I was content with what we had. We'd found a balance and you screwed it up all. Now deal with it!" she says through clenched teeth. She walks to her door and passes her hand over the sensor. The door wooshes open. "Please, leave. I'm tired. I need to rest."

He looks hurt but complies, knowing for the time being, whatever he says, she won't listen. He bites his bottom lip. "I know you don't want to hear it, Louise, but I'm gonna say it anyway. You're scared of living and you're hurting us both in the process. When you disappeared and we thought we'd never find you on time, I felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest. If that doesn't say something about how I don't care being Captain Handsome if you're not by my side, then what does?"

TBC


	52. Chapter 52

_Chapter 52_

 _Spoilers for Inquisition_

She remains seated on the edge of her bed after he's left her room, not knowing what to make of all this. They should never have gotten so close. It could only lead to heartache. What he said is spinning in her mind and she finally moves to her desk to find some painkillers for the migraine she feels is building up. She's been instructed by Jen to call if anything was the matter but she doesn't want to have to explain why she has a migraine in the first place so she just takes the med and gets in bed. She realizes he's not even said what her punishment was. She keeps the thought for a rainy day knowing she'll know soon enough.

The next morning, she wakes up early and sees it's raining outside. She shakes her head at the irony of it and watches the drops of water trickle one after the other on her window panes for a few minutes before she musters the courage to trudge to the bathroom to shower and get ready for her day. No one has called her yet but since she's been discharged from the infirmary, she surmises she'll soon need to report to Woolsey's office at the very least.

She passes her hand over the sensor to open the door and is met with the sight of a stern-looking marine guarding her door. He nods and greets her with a curt "Ma'am." She looks at him bemused. He taps his headset. "Sir, Ms Léger is awake. Shall I bring her to you?" He listens to the answer intently then disconnects his communicator and turns to her. "Please, follow me. Mr Woolsey is waiting for you."

She does as told and no matter how many questions she asks him, she's only met by stubborn silence. When they reach Woolsey's office – by which time she's white as a sheet from the shame she feels at being escorted by an armed guard through the city – he opens the door and introduces her then closes the door and stands nearby. Only Woolsey is in his office. She understands she's going to be informed of her sentence. She would have thought John would be there but Woolsey offers her a seat and she sees John is still not coming.

"I imagine you know why you're here, Ms Léger?" Mr Woolsey says kindly.

She nods. "Yes, Sir. Colonel Sheppard said I'd be disciplined for my insubordination..."

"And your lies, yes," he adds, making her blush.

"Isn't Colonel Sheppard going to join us?" she asks in a small voice.

Woolsey gives her a tense smile. "Colonel Sheppard does not wish to see you for the time being, Ms Léger," he informs her, looking embarrassed, "and to tell you the truth, I can't blame him." She gasps and tears well-up in her eyes. "Yet you must know we've agreed on an appropriate punishment for your behavior." She nods quietly. "Do we agree you're guilty of all charges?" he asks, to make sure she understands she needs to be disciplined. She nods again and breathes out, trying to remain calm. He smiles at her gently. "It's only for your own good and the good of the City, Ms Léger. We do not want to be cruel after what you've been through but this is necessary. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir, I do. I will accept the punishment." She doesn't care what they're gonna do to her. She's been punished enough already by the absence of her friend at this very meeting.

"Very well, then. Colonel Sheppard and I have decided you will remain apart from the rest of this City for the next three weeks. You will stay in your quarters. No work, no walks to the kitchen or anywhere else except one hour per day spent at the gym if you wish but only on set hours when no one is around. No visits to or from your friends. No trip to the mainland and of course, no off-world missions. You will also hand me that headset now," he says, motioning for her to pass it along. She removes it and hands it to him relunctantly across the desk, still trying to grasp what this means. "Your walkie-talkie as well as your computer are being removed from your quarters as we speak. Your meals will be delivered to your quarters and a guard will be assigned to your door round the clock. That will be all." He says sternly, making it clear the meeting is over.

She stands in a transe and finally musters the courage to speak. "You're shunning me?" she whispers, her voice hoarse with unshed tears.

He nods. "Colonel Sheppard wanted to put you in the brig but he realized you might still find a way to see people. This way, he hopes, you'll finally understand what choosing to fend for oneself feels like."

He signals for the guard to come in. She looks Woolsey in the eye before being escorted back to her room. "I'm sorry," she simply says.

He smiles sadly at her. "I know you are. And I know Colonel Sheppard's decision is harsh but I believe it's an apt punishment for what you did."

She walks back to her room, her head down, letting the information sink in – he's the one who came up with her sentence, even if Woolsey agrees with it. She gulps and tries to keep the tears at bay while she passes people in the corridors. They take a transporter to the private quarters' section of the City and when they exit it, he's on the far end of the hall, talking to Zelenka, his arms crossed over his chest. He lifts his head as he sees her and the marine step into the hall. Their eyes lock for what feels like an eternity and she doesn't care that people see her crying by now. She lets the tears fall freely from her eyes and doesn't care to brush them away.

He bites his bottom lip and for a split second, she thinks he's going to come and talk to her but the moment has passed and he steers Zelenka away from the hall, breaking eye contact, and never turns back. "We need to keep moving, Ma'am," the marine tells her. He's gentle but he's got orders. Sheppard has been adamant about it – no softies on this shift. She needs to be an example for the rest of the City.

She doesn't see him again during those weeks, nor does she see anyone else except her guards, who change every day. She feels like a lion in a cage. Not even Jen is allowed in her quarters. They take her twice a week to the infirmary for her check ups and on those occasions, her guards are always females who stay in the room and remind the doctor she's not allowed to talk to her except for medical reasons.

Jen worries about her health and storms one day in Sheppard's office. "She's lost four pounds, Sheppard," she growls at him. "I've been told she barely touches her trays. She exerts herself in the gym and has asked to be taken there in the middle of the night because, apparently, she's got problems sleeping. When is this mockery gonna end?" she demands, hands on hips.

He shrugs, looking detached. "Checked her vitals?" he asks casually.

"Yeah!" she replies, royally pissed.

"So?" he prods, raising his eyebrows.

"Have you heard a word of what I just said?" she counters.

He shrugs. "Yeah, I have. If she wants to starve herself or deprive herself of sleep, her problem. Now, if you tell me she needs to be hospitalized, that's a different matter." She shakes her head. "Well, then," he says, pointing at the door," this conversation is over."

"Don't you care about her?" she demands.

He sniggers. "It's because I care a little bit too much about her she's in there, Doc. She needs to understand once and for all before she gets herself killed."

Her door whooshes open, taking her by surprise. It's not the time for her daily walk to the gym or her meals. Mr Woolsey comes in and nods at the guard, who closes the door.

She looks at him in surprise. "Mr Woolsey? Has my sentence been upturned?"

He shakes his head. "Not exactly, Ms Léger, but I might have to lift it for the time being. I need your help."

She feels a sense of foreboding. No way John has allowed for her to be on any mission while she's being shunned. Something must be the matter. She motions for him to take the chair and sits herself on the edge of her bed.

"I'm afraid Colonel Sheppard and his team have been abducted," he informs her and lays a hand on hers when he sees her stand in alarm. "Sit, Ms Léger. We need to make hasty work. I need to explain the situation to you and then I'll tell you how you come into the picture."

She gears up in haste and is joined by Lorne who's come back fom yet another wild goose chase reconnaissance mission. They have found no trace of them and their only hope rests in the negociation Mr Woolsey is about to lead. "We've located Beckett. He'll join you off-world. Major Harriman is going to escort you with Ridgeway. Louise, I need you to understand this could turn out to be a very dangerous mission. We don't know who to trust anymore and you're about to try and use leverage on our trading partners. I know Mr Woolsey briefed you on it but Colonel Sheppard is not here..."

"And if he were, he'd never allow me to go off-world because it's too dangerous, I know," she pouts. "John has got to stop trying to damn protect me and you have to stop acting as his understudy," she points out wickedly.

Lorne pouts. She shakes her head. The guy does know how to make her feel guilty for being nasty and she can never be pissed at him. One too many eye candy on base, she sniggers inwardly.

"You well know why he protects you so," he counters, giving her a look.

She sighs. "Because I'm reckless, I know."

He shakes his head. "You two are as blind and stupid as can be and this thing is getting old, ya' know. He loves you, silly, and is afraid you might not make it alive, that's all! Come on," he huffs, not waiting for an answer. "We gotta gate. We have to get these nogociations going. These people need to understand they don't want to get on the wrong side of our petite cook!" he sniggers. She stays stubborly rooted in place so he wheels round. "What?" he demands.

She shakes her head despondently. "What is it with you all, people? John doesn't care a damn shit about what happens to me more than anyone else. He's just pissed I disobeyed him once again."

He shakes his head too. "Exactly what I was saying. You're really starting to piss me off, ya' know? Do you never stop and take the time to see how he looks at you?"

She scoffs. "Yeah, well, you'd better ask yourself how he looks at Larrin!"

He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms on his chest. "Ya' know, it takes a lot to make me fly off the handle but you're no ordinary woman, as quite a few eligible men have noticed on board, and you have to stop doing this – belittling yourself all the time. I say John Sheppard would go to hell and back for you. Period. And I know you'll do the same for him. That tells something, don't ya' think?" he grabs her arm. "Now, get going, lady. We have a few of our people to save. And stop gaping. It's not becoming!" he sniggers.

They've been going at it for hours – negociating with their most faithful and oldest trading partners. Lorne has gone to several of their planets and told them their "friend" – he's insisted on the word though he knows most are very fond of her – needed to see them asap. Woolsey wants her to make them see the light – that if John's team is declared guilty and sentenced to exile, Atlantis will be found guilty as well and shunned, meaning there will be no trading with the City anymore and no help from this powerful ally, either. She's taken Beckett with her because over the years, trading for food and medical supplies as well as help from the City's doctors has become a staple for those partners.

 _"They take us for granted, Ms Léger," Woolsey has told her. "They think they can turn a blind eye on what's happening so they can get both ends of the bargain – the political support of the coalition as well as our help. I want you to show them they're going to lose much more than they can win."_

She huffs at hearing yet another excuse from her so-called friends and finally flies off the hook. "You got to be kidding me, right?" she growls. "You really think we're going to go on trading with people who are ready to let their friends be sentenced to a shunning on a barely habitable planet? You think we'll go on helping you?" She sees Beckett's reproving look but looks at him intently, hoping he gets her lead.

She slaps her hand on the negociation table. "Well, guess what! If my friends' team is condemned in this so-called mockery of a trial, it won't be long before we leave this galaxy altogether and let you all take care of your sorry asses on your own. No more trade, no free medical help, no military support. You'll be on your own, kids, and good luck with that!" she adds, staring them down. "Oh and let's not forget the trading organization we've created under Dr Weir's leadership for which I devote quite a large amount of my free time – free of charge, might I add. You think it will survive our departure and the subsequent taking over by the coalition? Do you really think those guys will help you without compensation?"

She snorts disdainfully and gets up from her chair, ignoring their looks of dismay. "I'm out of here. Clearly, I'm wasting my time! You coming, Carson?" she asks casually. Her heart is beating two hundred miles an hour. John has tried to teach her poker tons of time but ended up quitting because she's not able to bluff and cannot help giggling every time she does. This time, though, she doesn't feel like giggling. She feels murderous.

Beckett stands and follows her lead. "You're right, love. It's high time we flew the City back to the Milky Way where it belongs. We'll figure a way with our scientists back there to get to our guys. Did McKay ever mention to you Sam Carter is even more brilliant than he is?" he says casually, as they head to the door, not sparing a look for the people around the table.

She sees where this is leading. Apparently, she's not the only one with an ace in the hole. "Yeah," she drawls lazily. "And that's without counting McKay's sister. Those two are gonna make a great team."

"You were brilliant back there," Lorne compliments her and Beckett. "Did I mention they were brilliant?" he insists, his eyes twinkling with pride. They're all sitting at one of the tables in the mess hall. John, his team and Woolsey have returned earlier on and they've just finished sharing a hearty meal Louise has prepared for them.

John is sitting opposite Louise, lounging in his chair. He scratches at his five-o' clock shadow looking thoughtful. "You might have," he deadpans but then his eyes twinkle and lock with hers and she lets out the breath she didn't know she was holding. "Thank you all," he says and raises from his chair. "Celebrations are well and dandy but I know of a certain lady who has not finished her penance," he points out wickedly, making everyone protest around the table.

She doesn't say a word and stands. Woolsey does too. "Surely, Colonel, with all she's done today to help save you, you cannot think of making her go back to her quarters. There are only a few days left on her sentence..."

"A deal is a deal, Mr Woolsey, and she accepted it. Didn't you?" he asks Louise. She nods silently and hangs her head. Whatever she does will not change what she's done back there. "Come on," he says sternly, motioning for her to follow him. "Time to head back to your cell, jailbird." She sees the shadow of a smile forming on his lips but doesn't dare hope he'll change his mind. To be fair, he's right. She cannot be seen as the teacher's pet and people need to learn from her mistake. After checking it's OK with him, she hugs her friends one by one and then leaves by his side towards her quarters. He doesn't utter a word while they are on the transporter or the corridors but follows her inside her room. There's no guard at the moment in front of her door.

"You don't need to put a guard on my door, John. I'll comply with your rules. I promise," she says, shuffling her feet.

He bites his bottom lip and reaches out in his pocket. He hands her her headset. "You're still grounded, Léger, and the headset is only set to reach my channel. Should you wish to talk to me," he adds before heading for the door.

"John?" she calls after him.

He turns and watches her expectantly. "Louise?"

"I do wish to talk to you. Thank you," she says with a tentative smile. He nods and leaves. She smiles at the door that whooshes closed and counts to ten before she taps her headset.

"You waited long enough," he replies gruffly. She giggles. "No giggling, Louise. Shall I remind you you're still grounded?" he points out wickedly. He hears her snort and rolls his eyes. "Talk to you later," he sighs, heading for the balcony to join Woolsey who's instructed him to come and see him when he's done with her.

They stand in silence for a while after lighting their cigars. "Have you two found some common ground?" Woolsey asks. He's the one who suggested John might want to give her some peace offering and he's glad he has.

John takes a sip at his glass. "Don't know, Sir. I'm treading on shaky ground with her these days. I'd like to see us settle into a waltz and for some time I thought we were almost there but Louise and I, it's always been more like a chacha," he sniggers despondently.

Woolsey scoffs. "I get it. You like Ferris Wheels and she likes roller coasters. Give her time to adjust to the pace, Colonel. With everything that's happened in her life, it's no wonder she needs time to see the light. But she will. I'm sure she will," he assures his 2IC and pats his arm before leaving the younger man to his thoughts.

TBC


	53. Chapter 53

_Chapter 53_

 _Spoilers for the Prodigal_

The power goes off as she exits the transporter on her way back from the storage area. She's made her preparation for her French tea cookies a little earlier and let it rest while she was getting more ingredients for yet another recipe. She's gotten the temperature of the oven just right and that's the trickiest thing about that deceptively easy recipe. You need just the right temperature or they get either too crunchy or too moist.

She growls and taps her headset. "Rodney, this is Louise. What's going on?" She only gets static. She huffs. The luck she has! It's the only free night she has and that's when she can try out new recipes from her granny's cookbook. Sure she makes her own but it's been hitching at her for some time to try new ways of doing it. Of all the moments this could happen, this really is a bummer.

She tries calling Rodney again, then the Control Room, even John, though she doesn't like to ask for his help in case he'd think he has to come to her rescue – again. He needs to know she's strong and independent.

They're pretty civil to each other now and have never talked again about the whole jealousy thing but she's very cautious about not getting into a situation where he might want to get all protective with her. She huffs and pouts, sitting on the bench in the dark. There's nothing she can do but wait. The doors are sealed shut and the transporter won't work.

Her headset beeps as the lights in the kitchen flicker. The ovens and fridges come on as well. She sighs in relief. She taps her headset. "Anyone there?" she asks tentatively. They must be trying to get the systems back on line as the doors are still not opening when she passes her hand over the sensor and the rest of the City is still mainly in the dark.

"Yes, Ms Léger, there is indeed someone," she hears the unmistakable voice of their long-time enemy.

She gulps. "Michael?"

He chuckles. "That would be me, yes." She shudders. There's no two ways around it and she's not going to try and lie to herself. Michael has invaded the City and he's most likely not alone.

"What are you doing here?" she growls.

"Well, well," he banters, "aren't you still a bundle of nerves!"

She doesn't answer and looks around, her mind going two hundred miles an hour. They need to do something about it and the hell she won't try to help. John's probably onto it but she knows he was supposed to spend time with Rodney, racing cars on the other end of the City, and if the systems are down, she might be the closest. She keeps a gun in her quarters and rolls her eyes at her own stupidity for not having one down here.

The doors whoosh open and she turns round, grabbing the first thing she can find for defense, namely a rolling pin. Michael enters the room and looks her up and down very smugly then suddenly roars with laughter. "Oh, really, Louise, you'll never cease to amuse me!" he taunts her.

She's fuming with rage but doesn't let go of the rolling pin though she knows she's defenseless, with or without it. "What the hell are you doing in my kitchen, Michael?"

He lifts his hands in mock surrender. "Wow! Calm down. I'm not here to kill you. I came to talk to you." He motions for the guards he's brought with him to wait outside and closes the door. "Put that weapon down," he mocks her. "You know you're no match for me."

She huffs and does as told then folds her arms over her chest defensively. "What do you want, Michael?"

He pouts. "I thought after our last encounter, we could at least be civil to each other."

She rolls her eyes. "And why would that be?" she yells at him, her eyes boring into his. "You think you did me a favor?" He lifts his eyebrows and she lashes at him. "You jerk! Do you know what trouble your "gift" brought my way?" she goes on, eyes brimming with tears of frustration.

He remains silent, not having expected she'd reproach him with giving her her youth back.

"I thought... I thought..." he stammers.

She sneers. "Yeah, I know what you thought. Well, you thought wrong! I became a freak show for the whole base and believe me, I would gladly have dispensed myself with the consequences."

She falls silent and taps her foot impatiently, trying to calm down and failing poorly. "Let's not dally with it. I have no time for making small talk with you, Michael. I demand you tell me what you're doing here. Now!" she yells.

He regards her coolly and walks to her briskly, making her retreat hastily behind the table. He huffs. "Again. Not going to kill you. Especially if we find common ground."

She lifts her eyebrows. "And what would that be, Michael? Because I don't remember us having anything in common," she counters nastily.

He flinches at the rebuke. "That's rude, Louise, but I'll survive. I came to you to make you an offer you won't be able to refuse."

She rolls her eyes. "What can you possibly offer me I don't have?"

"Your health, for a start," he answers coolly, making her shudder. "I can ensure you will never be sick again. And the life of Teyla and her child," he adds, narrowing his eyes at her, waiting for her reaction.

She gasps. "Where are they?"

He lifts his hand reassuringly. "They're in the Control Room and they're fine. I do not intend to harm them in any way if you and Teyla do as I ask."

"And what do you ask of us, Michael?" She really doesn't care but she's trying to buy time for John's team to find a way to reach them. Keep him occupied, she tells herself. Whoever is with him is not as cunning as he is and they'll never see John coming.

"I want you three to come with me. I'm taking the child anyway. See, Louise, the City is now under my control, as is the stargate. The people who were there and those two levels up and down are going to have a headache when they wake up. The rest are stranded in the other parts of the City, including your precious Colonel," he adds nastily, knowing she must be thinking about him now. What he doesn't realize is that he's given her reason to hope. John and the others are fine and that's what counts at the moment.

The cogs are spinning in her head. "And why would you want to take me?" she prods. "Teyla, I get it, if you want to take her child. But me? I'm just a cook."

"You're not just a cook, Louise," he counters. "In Dr McKay's own words, you're a "damn good cook". His words, not mine. And you're the only human who's ever showed any empathy for me. I have come to regard you as a friend. I have to admit I'd very much like you to see me as such, but for the time being, I'll be content with taking you with us so you keep Teyla company."

She closes her eyes for a brief moment, trying to grasp the meaning of all this. He wants to take the child and she doesn't have to ask why because he'd already made it clear the baby was special. He wants someone to keep Teyla from going bonkers in the middle of his hybrid faction. That she can understand too. But that he would want them to be friends, that's beyond her understanding. She tells him. "Why do you even bother to tell me you want my friendship, Michael? You're a damn monster. How could you possibly think I'll ever consider being anything but your enemy?" He blanches under the insult. "If I could get my hand on a weapon, Michael, I would kill you. Make no mistake."

He nods, indicating he's understood what she's saying. "Think about it, Louise. I'm offering you the opportunity to help your friend and leave before I blow the whole place up. Whatever your decision, I'll respect it." He's going to kill everyone. Almost three hundered people are on base at the moment. And everyone she cares about in the whole world. She needs to think, find a way to buy them time.

She nods, jaw clenched. "I need to think about it, Michael," she says calmly.

He nods too. "Very well. That's understandable. I still have to tie a few loose ends but don't wait too long. And if you need incentive,"he adds, rounding the table. She steps back in fright. He huffs, looking sad. "I'm not going to hurt you. I was going to offer you a peace offering. Your health," he elaborates, reaching into the pocket of his coat and offering her a seringe, palm up. "This is the treatment I give to my followers. It will cure you of any disease, make you stronger. I assure you it's completely safe."

She shakes her head and takes another step back. "No priviledges, Michael, and no gifts. I won't become one of your worshippers. If I decide to go, it'll only be for Teyla's sake."

"Still the same stubborn lady," he replies, disappointment showing in his eyes. " It was a gesture of affection from one friend to another, Ms Léger. No trick there."

She stares him down disdainfully. "You can call me a friend, Michael, but I'll never call you mine. Don't bother anyway. Soon enough, John will figure a way to get to you and when he does, there will be nowhere for you to hide. He'll hunt you down and kill you."

She sees him flinch. He gets toe to toe with her, making her shudder with fear. "I'm afraid it's your precious John's life that'll come to an end today, my dear. Die with him or live with me, I don't care."

He wheels around and walks out.

She takes deep breaths, trying to regain her composure, then walks to the pantry to eat some sugar, feeling dizzy and weak. This can't be happening. Their lives can't possibly end today, at the hands of the enemy. She can't let him do this to them – to all of them. She starts pacing but it's not what she needs. She needs to get busy, so she gets her preparation from the walk-in cooler and checks her oven before setting to work. Cooking has always been able to help her cool down and think more clearly and she's about to make one of the most important decisions of her life.

She's getting her second batch of cookies from the ovens when a few lights in different areas of the City get back on line. She walks to her balcony and prays this means good news – that they're regained control of a part of the City at least and are making their way to the Control Room and Teyla, before it's too late.

She checks for the umpteenth time if she can open the doors or use the transporter to the storage room but she's still marooned, which means Michael still has control over the whole area around the mess hall. And then she hears the alarm that announces the self-destruction of the City. She paces, her hands folded on her chest but the wait is killing her and it's with a heavy heart that she finally decides to call Michael.

"Ah, Ms Léger. I'm glad you're finally calling me," he answers agreeably. "Have you made a decision?"

She breathes out. "Are you still going to kill everyone?" she barks.

"Yes, I am," he says matter of fact.

"Well, then, no." She clenches the little hummingbird charm John gave her for her birthday, saying he wanted her to have it as a reminder of how we should always think about enjoying the moment – celebrating life and joy over death and sorrow. Her mind reaches out to her friends – to John. "Is there anything I can say to make you change your mind, Michael?" she asks desperately.

She hears him breathe on the other end of the channel. "What are you offering?"

"Take me with you if you will but leave the City intact," she offers, knowing he'll probably laugh at her for being so naive.

"You're offering your freedom in exchange for the life of your friends?"

"Of everyone on base, Michael," she corrects him, not knowing he's ready to evacuate and can't find Teyla and Torren who have disappeared without a trace.

"Very well," he replies. The door whooshes open, to her utter amazement. "Join us to the Control Room. We're getting ready to leave," he informs.

She hesitates. "Do I have your word you won't destroy the base?" she insists.

"You do," he answers. "Now, make haste, Ms Léger. We don't have much time."

She starts walking in a daze through the mess and then corridors. "Why are you doing this, Michael?" she wonders.

He sneers. "Because I don't need to kill your friends to have my revenge. Killing Colonel Sheppard would be too easy. Taking what he most cherishes will do the trick just fine."

She chokes on her tears but advances bravely towards where she's supposed to join him.

She hears the alarm for the self-destruct shut off and mistakens it for Michael's decision to make good on his promise so she plods on. She soon hears gunshots and around the City, lights begin to come on everywhere. She taps her headset, one last desperate move to reach anyone else. "This is Ms Léger. Anyone on this channel?"

Radek answers her. "Ms Léger. This is Radek. Are you in the kitchen?"

"Oh, God, a friendly voice, finally! No, I'm not. I'm making my way to the Control Room," she sighs in relief.

"Please return there," he asks her. "Marines are trying to regain control of the place as we speak. It's not safe to be wandering around in the corridors."

"Where's John?" she asks, her voice strained. "Where's everyone?"

"We've got people stranded all over the City. Colonel Sheppard is currently trying to stop Michael. He's had to abandon the Control Room and has tried to make his way to the Jumper Bay but we've managed to regain control of the system and have closed the doors' iris. He's got nowhere to go. Everyone needs to stay put until they catch him," Radek explains to her patiently, knowing she must be sick with worry.

"Try to patch me up to Michael. I can try and put sense into him," she pleads.

Zelenka shakes his head in disbelief. "Ms Léger, you're a sucker for lost causes. He'll never listen to you."

She growls. "I need to try. I'm begging you, Mr Zelenka."

He huffs but complies. Michael hears her voice as he's being cornered on a narrow berth outside the central tower. "Michael, it's Louise. Listen to me. Surrender and I'll speak on your behalf. I'm making my way to you as we speak."

"It's too late for me, Louise, and you know your Colonel Sheppard will never let me live. Not after everything I've done, though I only did what I did to survive. I never stood a chance. From the very moment you humans decided you were allowed to gamble with my fate," he says and she hears the pain and disgust in his voice.

"I'm sorry, Michael," she whispers before ending the conversation and taking the stairs at a run, a sense of foreboding clenching at her heart. Radek has said John was onto it. He hasn't mentioned anyone else. What if Michael has the upper hand? She needs to get there before it's too late, but all she sees when she arrives is John and Teyla looking down at the base of the tower. She looks from one to the other.

Teyla's eyes are cold and fierce but she softens when she sees Louise. "You're safe," she says with a smile.

John walks to her and wraps his arms around her, groaning from his injuries.

"You're hurt," she whimpers, wrapping her arms around his middle cautiously, not wanting to hurt him further but not having the courage to let go of him already.

"I'm fine," he amends and walks them to the door, getting back inside, his arm on her shoulders, hers around his waist.

Teyla smiles at them both and taps her headset to inform Radek they're fine and heading back their way. She turns to John and Louise. "Can you take care of him?" she asks Louise hopefully.

Louise nods. "Is Torren alright?" she asks worriedly.

"Everyone is fine, Louise, and Torren is with Amelia. Do you mind..."

Louise chuckles. "Go. I'll take care of the other kiddo," she teases John.

Teyla leaves at a run. John tightens his grip around her and groans. "John, please, sit. I'll call the medics," she pleads but he shakes his head.

"I can walk. I'm not crippled, just whumped."

She chuckles. "When are you not?" she banters humorlessly. They make their way slowly down the stairs to return to the nearest transporter. "I thought I'd never see you again," she whispers, her gaze lost in the distance.

"I know. I thought so too. Michael called me when you agreed to join him – just to taunt me. Louise, why would you do such a thing? It would have been a life of misery..." he tells her.

"My life in exchange for everyone's safety, John. It was worth it," she shrugs it off, embarrassed.

"You're reckless and suicidal," he points out humorlessly but kisses her temple.

"Look who's talking," she counters, rolling her eyes.

He shakes his head in disbelief. "Will you ever shut up and admit when you're wrong?" he huffs. She shakes her head. "No way. And you would have done the same thing. So, you shut up."

They walk the rest of the way back in silence, each of them lost in their thoughts.

Before they reach the infirmary, she hesitates and stops, turning to him. "You know, there's one thing I must say about Michael. He might have been a monster and all, but he did one rare thing for me," she says, hoping John won't get mad at her. She's defended their nemesis before but that was when she didn't know who he was.

He sighs. "I agree. He could have let you die on that planet and he took the time to cure you. I'm grateful for that. He did have feelings after all. But that's not enough to redeem him, Louise," he points out.

"No, you don't get it. It's not what I meant. He did something today that not many people have done for me. He let me choose," she whispers, looking sad.

He looks at her, bemused. "Sorry, what?"

"He asked me to join him. He could have forced me to come with them but he offered. Sure, he bargained for it, tempting me with the lure of letting you guys live, but he did ask all the same," she replies in a small voice.

His eyes get dark. "You're defending him?" he accuses her.

She shakes her head. "That's not what I meant, John. Forget about it. It's not worth us fighting over it," she replies before pulling him gently inside the infirmary.

She's left him there and headed back to the kitchen to prepare a late night snack for the teams who are flocking back towards the mess hall.

Teyla comes to check on John as he leaves the infirmary. "How are you doing?" she asks him, seeing he's still sporting that dark gaze he had when she left them earlier. He shrugs. She smiles and walks to his side with Torren in her arms who has finally woken up. John caresses the kid's head absent-mindedly. "What is it, John?" she insists.

"It's Louise," he says and she smiles.

"I should have known," she smirks.

He huffs. "She has that way of rubbing salt in my wounds, ya' know... She said she was grateful to Michael for letting her choose to leave with him and have a life of misery or stay and die with us all. How can she still defend him after everything he did?" he asks, aggravated.

"She's not," Teyla says, looking wistful. "He did the same for me. Sure, it was never really a choice but I get her point. In his very twisted way, he offered her a kind of partnership. It's much more than most people have allowed her to have in her lifetime. Her parents decided of who they wanted her to be. Her husband decided of when he didn't want her anymore. Chris," she adds and plods on though she sees him flinch at the mention of Louise's failed attempt at a semblance of happiness, "twisted her arm so she'd agree to allow him into her life..."

"And I'm so worried about her well-being, I smother her, not letting her make her own decisions," he adds, wincing. "Is it where you're heading?"

She nods. "Michael could have made the decision for her but he did not. It was a welcomed change. Louise is independent and strong, in spite of her petite frame. I think Michael recognized that in her and respected her for it. It was as close to a frienship as he could get, I guess."

John nods silently, lost in his thoughts, so she pats his arm and leaves tactfully, knowing he'll need time to really see all Louise needs is to be accepted for who she is – not molded into a person she'll never be.

TBC

 _Extract from Louise's Cookbook_

 _French Tea Cookies (Financiers)_

 _2 tbsp unsalted butter melted and cooled to butter the molds_

 _1 cup ground almonds_

 _1 2/3 cups confectioners' sugar_

 _½ cup flour_

 _a pinch of salt_

 _6 egg whites_

 _¾ cup butter, melted and cooled_

 _Butter the molds (use small ones, like cupcake ones though those cookies are usually rctangular) and put them in the freezer to solidify the butter._

 _Sift the almonds, sugar, flour and salt and combine them then add the egg whites and finish with the butter. Spoon in the molds._

 _Bake 7 minutes at 450°F then 7 minutes at 400°F then turn off the oven heat and let them rest in the oven for 7 more minutes._

 _Cool them for ten minutes then unmold them._

 _You can add raspberries or blueberries to the batter._


	54. Chapter 54

_Chapter 54_

 _Sorry I haven't posted earlier. My kitchen is currently invaded with tons of cookies, streusel bars, blondies, brownies, French butter cookies... You name it! for a charity event I'm catering to. Hopefully things will get a little bit less crazy on Sunday and you'll get another update with spoilers for Vegas!_

 _Have any of you read the prequel to this story? I got no reviews so I don't know if you liked it... Sigh... I live on feedback, remember? (and snickerdoodle mug cakes!)_

 _Spoilers for Remnants_

"Hey, there you are!" she exclaims, finally finding them on the balcony near the mess hall. She's just seen Rodney frown and John smirk at him and then Mr Woolsey pat his shoulder sympathetically. "What's going on?" she asks, her eyes sweeping the gang sitting around the table. She's glad to see Mr Woolsey has joined them all, which is a first. She lifts her eyebrows expectantly.

John smirks once more. "Let's say McKay had a run in with one of his fantasies!"

"Hey," Rodney protests. "I was not the only one as I recall..." He gives John a knowing look.

She sees him pout. Mr Woolsey looks embarrassed too. "So? What's going on?" she insists. "Anything interesting while I was away?"

John stands and offers her his seat then grabs another one to sit next to her. "Had a nice trip?" he asks conversationally.

"John, don't deflect my questions!" she points out. He bites his bottom lip, making everyone laugh. "Busted, buddy," Ronon smirks.

"Can we talk about it later?" he insists. "I really want to know how it went on MPX-407." He's finally allowed her to go with a team she's assembled to put the final touch to the trade treaty she's been working on for months. He's agreed she has always done a good job uniting their allies around trade negociations and deserved to be at the negociation table. Now, the work is almost complete.

"The preliminary text's been drafted and approved by all delegates present. Signing it will only be a formality," she adds for Woolsey's sake who nods at her approvingly.

"You did an excellent job, Ms Léger," he compliments her, making her blush.

"Thank you, Sir." John notices she doesn't try to elude the compliment as she used to not long ago. She's changed, become more confident, and if he's honest with himself, granting her his trust must have something to do with it. Woolsey has advised him to let find her pace and it's actually done wonders, though they're still uncomfortable around each other.

"How did it go with the team?" John can't help asking. She glances at him and bites her bottom lip. "It's not a tricky question, Louise. I really want to know and before you say anything, I didn't ask Major Teldy how you fared..." he elaborates.

She sighs and smiles at him. Earning his trust is something she's thought unantainable until now. "It went really well, John. I enjoyed my time with them, felt secure, and I'm sure they'll tell you I did my best not to get in their way."

"No straying, not rebelling against Teldy's orders?" he teases her.

She chuckles and shakes her head. "No, Sir, I was as good as gold."

He rubs her arm affectionately. "That's my girl!" He sees Woolsey pout and glances towards Louise but she gives no sign of exasperation. Quite the contrary, actually.

Woolsey relaxes in his chair. "We had a rough day, Ms Léger, so if that can wait, we'll debrief tomorrow," he says before standing. "If you'll all excuse me, I think I'll retire for the night." He nods at them all and heads back inside.

John turns to Louise. "Hey, have you had dinner?" he worries.

She lifts her eyebrows. "Being gentlemanly here," he amends hurriedly, "not pushy or anything, OK?"

She chuckles. "OK. No, I haven't had dinner but it can wait."

The others look at each other briefly and stand, all finding excuses to go their own way. She looks bemused. "What did I say?" she worries.

John chuckles. "Nothing. I think they all need to rest after the day we've had and you, lady, need to eat. Get your meds. I'll get you a tray. I mean, if you don't mind..." he adds cautiously.

She smiles. "I don't mind. Oh, and by the way," she adds casually, before leaving for the kitchen, "I like the new John."

They end up discussing her mission while she eats her dinner. He's gotten himself a second helping of cake and a cup of coffee and keeps her company as most people have already headed back inside. "So, you had fun, I gather?" he prods when she's finished filling him in on the events. She spent two whole days there and though he'd been tempted to accompany her, he'd opted out, not wanting to smother her.

She nods enthusiastically. He sighs with content, seeing how happiness fits her like a glove. "You?" she asks and he flinches.

"I thought you were going to the mainland with that cute little scientist," she prods, tickling him. When she's happy, it seems easier for her to fall back into their routine and not care about what people might think of how close they sometimes get. He hates the fact it's taken him so long to see that. He would have acted very different, had he not been so blind. Seeing other people too is part of his strategy. He knows he's crowded her. She needs to see him as his old self too.

He tickles her back. "Well, didn't turn out how I expected." He leans towards her conspiratorially. "She's a bore..."

She giggles. "Oh, God, John, you'll never cease to amaze me!"

He pouts and leans back in his chair. "How could I know?"

"She's a scientist and you were taking her there for work, not pleasure! What did you expect?" she teases him.

"Well, at least, I thought we'd get to know each other..." he says sheepishly.

Louise snorts so he rolls his eyes. "You've got your mind in the gutter, sweetie," he growls. "Not like that! I thought we could talk about what we had in common... All she does is talk about her work. Hence, boring!"

"You take her there for work, she talks about work," she insists, chuckling. "I don't see what's so wrong!"

"You don't talk about work when we spend time together," he replies pointedly.

She chuckles. "That's because I got the hang of it pretty fast," she counters cockily, waggling her eyebrows.

"That's a pretty arrogant statement," he remarks, smirking. "Think you know me?"

She blushes. "I think I do, yes. You're handsome but act like a schoolboy around girls. You're a badass on the field but you're truly one of the sweetest men I know. You act stupid with McKay but I know better. It's just a way of making him keep to the Cliff Notes so he won't ramble... Shall I go on?" she asks, lifting her eyebrows.

He looks her in the eye and remains silent. She gulps. "I got it wrong?" she insists, looking worried now.

He shakes his head and folds his hand gently around hers. "No, sweetie. You know me alright and I'm so grateful you're my friend."

She looks away but doesn't remove her hand yet. "I'm grateful you're my friend too, John."

The moment is too intense for them both so she leans back in her chair, finally disentangling their hands.

"I'm handsome?" he teases her.

She turns to him and shakes her head at his antics. "And impossible too!"

They fall silent again, just enjoying the moment. The sun has set and the lights have come on everywhere in the City. "We've been here almost five years," she remarks softly, "and not once have I ceased to be utterly awed by this sight."

He nods. "I know. I also know you come here almost every single night to admire the view."

She looks at him, amazed. "How?"

"Chuck told me once, a long time ago. I kind of like it here too. I see you sometimes..." he answers sheepishly. He doesn't want her to think he's stalking her.

"How come you never join me then?" she asks and is rewarded with a smile.

"Is that an invitation?" he asks hopefully. It's not easy for them these days. He'd not expected that kind of answer.

"Yes, it is. We're friends. It would be nice to reconnect somehow," she says with a sigh.

She fall silent again and closes her eyes. "Don't you sometimes feel as if it were humming to us?" she whispers.

"The City, you mean?"

She opens her eyes and looks into his own. "Yes. She makes me feel like I belong, you know."

He nods. He feels the same.

"I... It's one of my greatest fears, John. That one day, all this would cease to exist for me."

He watches her worriedly. "What do you mean?"

She shrugs. "I have these nightmares where the City is destroyed or taken from us or I'm still there but no one else is around. I wish all this could last forever." He sees tears in her eyes.

"Hey," he says, leaning towards her, "those last five years have not been easy but we survived and we're still here, on Atlantis. I won't make promises I can't keep and I certainly don't know what the future has in store for us but we'll do everything to remain here, on this City." He sighs seeing how forlorn she is and thinks of his own fears. "I didn't know you had those nightmares, Louise. Why didn't you tell me?"

She shrugs. "You're busy. Got tons of responsibilities. I didn't want to bother you. They're just stupid nightmares anyway."

"I can always make time for you," he counters, berating himself for not making it clear to her he's there for her no matter what. "I'll always be there for you, Louise. It's no empty promise."

She nods and sighs then she looks up at him, eyes boring into his. "You're so strong and confident and I feel so weak and useless. Teldy told me how you handled those monsters on that planet with her team. She said even she got scared but you never did – you never do," she sighs.

He chuckles humorlessly. "Yeah, sure. That's what I thought too..."

She lifts her eyebrows expectantly so he elaborates, explaining to her what had happened earlier, not lingering on his own experience though. She sees his discomfort. "What really happened to you, John?" she prods gently.

He huffs. "Look, I don't really want to relive it."

She pouts. "OK, but you know, sometimes all it takes to make a nightmare disappear is talk about it."

He looks away so she stands. "Should you ever want to talk about it, John, I'll be there for you," she says, rounding the table and kissing his cheek. She's not done that in eons and he feels touched. "Stay," he says on the spur of the moment.

"You sure?"

He gives her a tense smile and pushes a chair towards her for her to sit. "I was attacked by a vision of Koyla, then beaten up, maimed and almost killed in a fall from a cliff." She gasps. He pats her hands she's folded on the table. "It was just a vision, Louise. It was never real. Thing is, it was me doing that to myself. So you see, among my greatest fears is not death but my inability to protect the City, protect you all and having all this taken away from me. We're not really different, you and I. How many times have you hurt yourself thinking you were doing it for the good of others?" She pouts and stands and he looks up in alarm. "I didn't mean to push your buttons, Louise, please, listen..." She smiles at him and holds out her hand. "It's OK. And you're right. And I'm sorry you had to go through this, John, to face your fears. What we do with our fears is a different matter."

He takes her hand and stands. "You mentioned your nightmares. Have you managed to tame yours?" he asks as they make their way to the kitchen, side by side.

She shrugs. "I'm learning to cope with them. The oldest ones are easier now. The most recent ones... I don't know. I just think I need more time and a reprieve. We've had so many bad things coming our way these last few years, it would be nice to have good news for a change."

He bites his bottom lip. "This is something I cannot promise you, sweetie."

She pats his shoulder. "That's OK. I understand. It was just wishful thinking. Today was a good day for me and that's a start. You've trusted me, nothing's disrupted the mission, we've had a nice evening and you're all safe. I'm counting my blessings."

He gives her a fond smile. "Can I count mine too?"

She motions for him to do just so. "Nothing I saw was real, the City is still here, everyone is safe and sound and I have a great friend by my side," he adds, kissing her cheek tentatively.

She blushes and sighs. He sees her retreat in her shell and curses himself. It was a bald move – one of many she's allowed in the past when they were just friends. Things have changed in the meantime, though, and the meaning of those gestures of affection has too. He winces. "Sorry," he apologizes, lifting his hands in mock surrender. "I shouldn't have."

She looks guarded but shakes her head. "It's alright, John, as long as neither of us sees more in it than comfort between friends."

"Course," he nods. "Louise, truth is, I do miss my friend."

She smiles at him and rubs his arm affectionately. "We're good then. I'll see you tomorrow for our Friday night?" she offers.

He nods. An evening with the gang is a good place to start if they want to reconnect. After all, beggars can't be choosers.

They're standing in front of the kitchen. He knows it'd be unwise to push it further. "I'll see you then. Good night, Louise."

TBC


	55. Chapter 55

_Chapter 55_

 _Spoilers for Vegas_

She walks to his quarters and passes her hand over the sensor, making him know she's there. She hears music and shakes her head in disbelief, chuckling. He opens the door and grabs her arm, getting her inside and grins. "You came!"

She bites her bottom lip and can't help smiling, seeing how cheerful he looks. He turns the music down low. "You're listening to that song again," she points out, eyebrows raised. "What is it with Solitary Man that beacons to you so much these days?"

He looks innocent. "Hey, I've always loved Johnny Cash. You know it. Take it or leave it," he dares her with a smirk.

"That's not what I'm saying, John! Teyla mentioned hearing you listening to it over and over again in your office the other day..." She lifts her eyebrows expectantly.

He shrugs. "Don't know. Guess I finally got the message in that song," he answers, shrugging, looking embarrassed.

She looks away. It's difficult for them these days, hence his grin earlier when she'd finally accepted to join him for a movie. They tiptoe a lot around each other once more. Ever since they've helped the travellers with their new settlement and she's met Larrin. Since she's spent time with Daniel too. He was quite honest about being jealous of the time she'd spent with Dr Jackson and if she's honest with herself, she did feel the pangs of jealousy grip her heart when she saw how Larrin acted around him – as if she could have him if she wanted to, though she made it clear she's not interested for now.

And yet, Louise has worked too hard to make sure they won't lose their balance as friends. She's too afraid to lose him altogether to even risk being anything else to him. And, truth be told, if there had ever been a chance he and Dr Weir could have become an item, she'd never have entertained the idea. As it is, things have changed a lot since Elizabeth has been lost to them forever, and over the years, they've come to regard each other differently.

It was not a sudden change, rather a gradual shift in perspective. She's changed a lot both physically and emotionally and he acts very different with her too. He's never stopped being her knight in shining armor. It's just it's much more ambiguous and that scares her. He flirts with her more. Actually, they've been doing it for a long time – teasing each other, pushing the limits. She thought they would find a balance at some point – like being frozen in time for eternity, ever teasing each other, flirting a little, but never going further than that. Recently, it seems that's not how he wants it to be. Not that he's ever said it. It's just the way he acts around her.

So she's become more guarded, feeling she must be the one to keep that balance until he realizes this cannot possibly be. But she has to admit – it doesn't come down easy and she misses him. Tonight is one of those days when she cannot keep him at bay – simply because she won't.

He sees her unease. He thinks it's because of the most recent events – how he'd reacted to Dr Jackson's presence. He'd been stupid and irrational. He's finally realized it's a pattern in him. Someone spends time with her – Ronon, Johansen, Jackson – and he tells himself of course she's got the right to see who she wants, right? But not him – well, them. And it's not they're not good enough for her. It's just he doesn't want it to happen. Period. Because it just doesn't feel right. Even the idea of her having a husband once doesn't either. Who can get jealous of a guy who's not even around anymore? A guy who was going to divorce her anyway. He sneers inwardly at his own stupid need to always want to lock her up in a high tower so nothing wrong will happen to her. God knows he does want her to live and find her happy ending.

He smiles, trying to look cool. "So, what do you wanna watch?"

She shrugs but can't get rid of the unease. She sees how stupid it was to accept coming to his quarters. She doesn't want to shun him but here, they're too close. "Actually, I'm not in the mood for a movie. Why don't we go and join the others? Game of chess, perhaps? I saw Mr Woosley and Rodney playing in the mess hall. Maybe we could join them..."

He sighs. "Louise, every time I offer to do something together, you steer me back towards the gang. Why can't we do something just the two of us anymore?" It's quite blunt for him to voice out his disappointment.

"Well, because that's what we are – we're a team and teams do stuff together." She looks away.

He relents and motions for her to lead the way. "Fine, team night it is."

They play a couple of games, swapping partners. She declines playing with him again and points at a few other partners around the room, including a few eager-looking young scientists, among which the gal he's flown to the mainland a few days ago. "I'm going to prepare milk and cookies for you guys. I'll be right back," she informs him and leaves toward the back door to the kitchen. He sighs and looks around but shakes his head and follows her. Teyla stops him, a hand on his arm, having arrived with baby Torren who once again cannot go to sleep if he hasn't had a full tour of the City. "John, give her some space. And time," she adds, seeing him scowl.

"She's shunning me, Teyla. It didn't use to be that way. What have I done wrong that she's punishing me – again?"

He looks hurt so she steers him to one of the window seats and makes him sit next to her, sitting Torren on her lap. "She's not punishing you, John."

"She keeps me at arms' length," he counters, frowning.

Teyla gives him a look. "You're very moody these days, John, and tend to see things in a darker light than they really are. Louise is simply afraid you two will somehow lose the balance you'd finally found."

"We won't!" he replies more forcefully than intended, making Torren look at him in alarm. "Sorry, buddy," he says with a smile, stroking the kid's cheek. "Teyla, I'm still the same John she called her friend. Why is it she's retreating into her shell again?"

Teyla sighs. "It seems you're very blind these days, John Sheppard, so I think it is time I told you what I really think." He looks at her expectantly. "Louise has always been afraid to love you, let you close to her heart, and at the same time, she is also afraid of losing you. She needs the comfort of knowing you''ll be her best friend and yes, knight in shining armor, for ever."

"But I'll always be! It's a given. Can't she see that?" he answers, frustrated.

"Let me finish. She also sees how you act around her these days and she's afraid of where that might lead." Her tone is a little sharp but he needs to understand.

Louise has told Teyla how she suspects he's entertaining ideas about her and she doesn't want to be one of his many conquests.

 _"Flirting a little is fine, Teyla. As long as he knows the limits," she's told her one day, coming clean about how afraid she is the physical intimacy they have at times might lead to more one day. "I might be his friend but I'm also a woman and he's handsome and sweet. I think he doesn't realize how this whole thing could go south very fast. It was hard enough as it was when we went back to Earth for his dad's funeral and I thought I'd been clear at that time. Now it seems he's not listened to a word I said. Or am I the only one reading too much into this?" she asked her friend to which Teyla replied she was indeed probably right._

He huffs. "And what if it did? What would be so wrong? She spends her time pushing me into other women's arms and then giving me contradictory signals, ya know! She did almost get killed because she was pissed at seeing me with Larrin!"

"Well, you should talk to her about it."

"I did! She pushed me away. Short of getting on one knee and asking her to marry me, which would scare her off for good by the way, what can I do to make her see how I feel?" He frowns.

"She doesn't want to be one of your conquests, John. It'll only lead to sorrow if it doesn't work. She prefers for you to remain friends and not gamble with what you two have. If you become pushy, you'll indeed scare her off. Be patient," she advises him before taking Torren back to her room.

Louise comes back with warm milk and hands him a mug. He thanks her with a nod but she sees his look is lost in the distance.

"You OK?" she asks, sitting next to him.

He shrugs. "Sure. Peachy." He looks into his mug and falls silent. She lays a hand on his arm tentatively. He glances at her. "Do you ever wonder if other versions of us in alternate universes have met somehow?" She looks nonplussed. He huffs. "Sorry. It's just I'm thinking about how far we've come, you and I. If we had not met, who would we be today? McKay says there's an infinite number of possibilities. Change a variable – say you coming here – and things can change drastically. I wonder who we are for each other in other alternate worlds."

She shrugs. "Friends, I guess."

 _"We're sorry, Sir, but when we arrived, it was already too late. Detective Sheppard's injuries were too severe. He probably died a few minutes after the air strikes. His body has been sent to the morgue here," a marine informs Mr Woolsey as Dr McKay enters the room._

 _He looks sad and disappointed. Woolsey nods at him. "Sorry Dr McKay. I know you'd entertained the idea he might one day join your team."_

 _"He was a good man and a hero. I knew he had it in him. I guess no matter the version of him, he does," McKay replies thoughtfully." He wished to be buried along his friend," he informs Woolsey, handing him a testament. "It was in his file."_

 _Woolsey peruses the documents. "A sad end to a sad life," he says, thinking of how very alone Sheppard was when he died._

 _McKay looks away. "I met another version of him some time ago. I didn't give him specifics about the other him – just that he had saved the galaxy several times over. I never mentioned that little gal who's a cook in their own universe."_

 _Woolsey nods. "I guess it wouldn't have changed a thing. In our world, she was a medic and she's dead. What good would it have done to tell him the other him had her alive and well by his side?"_

 _In yet another universe, Louise is glancing at the clock above the counter and rubs her neck, feeling the migraine slowly returning. She's pulled in too many hours this week and can't wait to head back to her one-room apartment on the other side of town._

 _The only other waitress still working at this time of night passes her and pats her arm. "Cheer up! Only half an hour to go," she tells her then nods towards the farthest booth in the diner. "He's here again," she tells her with a smirk. "Asked about you as he's done for the last two years." She shakes her head in disbelief. "The guy cannot take the hint he's not your type, uh?" She rolls her eyes and whispers. "Not that I mind though. I already have my share of losers."_

 _Louise pouts. "He's not a loser," she protests._

 _The other woman eyes her suspiciously. "Don't tell me you like him! Gruffy looks, five o' clock shadow he seems to sport all year round and those crumpled jackets and sunglasses! Come on! You can do better, Louise."_

 _She shrugs and ignores her. She makes her way to his booth with a steaming pot of coffee. "What can I get you, Sir?" she asks him with a smile and pours him coffee._

 _He watches her as she does. "Thanks. Coffee is a good start. You make the best on this side of town." She nods silently and waits, the pot poised in the air. "Whatever today's special is will be just fine," he says. "I trust your judgment and your cooking."_

 _She smiles. "On the way, Sir. You'll be my last patron for tonight. I'll hand over the kitchens to the boss when he arrives."_

 _He sniggers and removes his eyeglasses, laying them on the table. He trains his hazel eyes on her. "Still the same old Buckley, I gather. Never there when you need to get home on time?"_

 _She shakes her head and snorts. "I guess I won't change him by now. I'll be right back," she says, heading for the kitchen to prepare his pastrami sandwich and fries. She sighs, thinking about all the restaurants where she could work right here in Vegas if only she had the time to look for a new job. Detective Sheppard is right – Joe Buckley is never on time thus making her pull extra hours almost every week. He called his place Jazzy Joe after the song, thinking it sounded cool. She rolls her eyes. It's rather Lazy Joe. The guy is never at the restaurant he's bought with his uncle's money, counting on his waitresses to double as cooks._

 _She returns with his plate and sets it before him. "Sit with me," he asks, using his best puppy look on her._

 _True he's sporting that beard and he's a loner, but when he looks at her like that, she always finds it hard to say no. "I can't," she says. "I'm working."_

 _"Technically you're not," he counters, glancing at the clock. The shift ended five minutes ago. Buckley should be there. He motions for the other waitress. "Can you get the lady a cup of that strong coffee she makes and whatever she wants on the menu, please?"_

 _The other waitress rolls her eyes and glances towards Louise who shrugs. "OK but Lisa doesn't have to do it and you sure won't buy me dinner, Mister." She walks to the counter and gets a mug and a piece of pie then plops down on the seat opposite him._

 _"Is that all you're gonna have for dinner?" he asks reprovingly. She lifts her eyebrows and she hears Lisa scoffs from the other side of the diner. Her co-worker is not too happy to see her indulge him. To her, he's a good for nothing._

 _She's told her so time and again. "They say no one wants to work with him. He's got more debts than he'll ever be able to pay back and he's been dishonorably discharged from the Air Force! Why do you keep indulging him? You're not his mother! And don't tell him you're pining for him!"_

 _Louise had shrugged and told her she was a sucker for lost causes._

 _He pushes his untouched plate towards her. "Share?" he offers with a smirk. "You need to put meat on those bones, ya' know," he drawls lazily, his eyes locking with her. She sighs and nibbles at the other half of his sandwich. He smirks._

 _"What?" she demands._

 _"Wow, lady. Don't bark," he sniggers. She narrows her eyes at him. "I was just thinking we've known each other for quite a while and it's our first date," he teases her._

 _She rolls her eyes. "Not a date," she counters._

 _He scratches at his beard thouhtfully. "Technically, it is. I'm buying you dinner after all," he says wickedly._

 _She giggles."You're..." She shakes her head, at a loss for words._

 _"Charming? Handsome? The man of your dreams?" he offers, making her snigger._

 _"Louise? What do you think you're doing, sitting at a table while you should be working?" they hear Buckley yell at her. He's just arrived through the back door and is white with rage._

 _She sees John's eyes turn dark. "She's my guest, Buckley, and if you had a watch that worked, you'd see she's finished her shift," he growls at the other man. She sighs. She should tell Buckley to shove it but she needs the job so she just sucks it up. Sure, she hates it when Buckley yells at her but when John intervenes – and he's done it a few times these last few months – it's even worse the next day. "John," she hisses. "Please."_

 _He huffs and stands. "Come on. I'll walk you to your car. I don't like it when you leave on your own. This part of town is not safe these days."_

 _Lisa nods for her to go. She still thinks Detective Sheppard is a loser but at least, he's Louise's knight in shining armor. In a twisted way, she reflects, but still. "I'll clean up for you," she informs her friend. Buckley is fuming but they all ignore him. She leaves her apron on the counter and grabs her bag and coat. John steers her towards the door, his hand at the small of her back, barely touching her but making sure Buckley gets the message she's got someone to protect her._

 _She doesn't say a thing until they're out then she turns to him briskly. "I can take care of myself, thank you, John," she says through clenched teeth._

 _He bites his bottom lip and she instantly regrets lashing out at him. It hits her like a ton of bricks – how she's become fond of him, in spite of all the walls she's been careful to keep around her heart. She smiles sadly. "I'm sorry. It's just you don't need to do that. And I don't even know what you want with me in the first place, John. I know for a fact there are plenty of girls out there – younger ones, might I add – that would do anything to get the attention you give me. Why do you keep trying? Don't you see we're not meant to be?"_

 _He gets into her personal space before she has the time to react and kisses her, his hands on either side of her head. She leans in and when he parts her lips with his tongue, she moans into his kiss and wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His hands have abandoned her hair for her hips, pulling her towards him too. "Louise," he whispers against her lips, "something came up and I'm gonna have to leave. Come with me."_

 _Their close proximity is making it hard for her to think straight, as are his eyes boring into hers. She breathes in and out, trying to slow down her heart that is telling her to ask for much, much more. Who would have guessed she'd react to him that way? She's never let him come close before. "What?" she asks not too brightly._

 _He chuckles and the sound rumbles in his chest, making her want nothing more than to stay right there in his arms for the rest of her life. "That case I've been working on for the last two months?" She nods, remembering the gruesome details from the local TV channel. "It appears there's much, much more than meets the eye. I've been contacted to lead a team of experts."_

 _Her heart stutters. "Where are you going?" she asks in a small voice._

 _"Where are we going, Louise," he counters. "I've made sure it was a plus-one thing, in case you'd want to get the hell out of that rat hole and join me." She doesn't answer so he elaborates. "Government. Secret stuff. You'll have to sign a waiver if you want to know anything about it. I'm asking you to trust me... And come with me. A new beginning, Louise, for us both. Do you trust me, Louise?" he whispers in her ear, making her shiver._

 _"Yes," she sighs with content and pulls him even closer._

 _He chuckles, tickling her with his beard as he trails kisses up and down her neck. "Yes, you trust me or yes, you wanna come with me?"_

 _"Yes to everything, John," she whimpers, tilting her head to give him better access._

"Louise? Louise!" He snaps his fingers at her, making her come back to their own reality. He chuckles, seeing her try to reconnect with the here and now. "Hey, where have you been?" he teases her.

She shakes her head. "Don't know. I think this alternate reality thing, it sent my plot bunnies go wild, I guess," she says sheepishly.

"So, will you answer my question now?" he prods. She lifts her eyebrows. "About who we are in other realities?" he elaborates, seeing her nonplussed.

"I don't know, John," she shrugs. "Fate's a bitch. I'm not sure we even know each other in other universes."

She looks wistful so he grabs her hand and keeps it in his. If there's one thing he knows, it's that it's not an idea he wants to entertain because if one is the sum of their experiences and encounters, then the John Sheppards of other realities had better have their Louise by their side. "In that case, Louise, we might have to compensate for all the other us who are not as lucky as we are to have each other."

She smiles at him and leaves her hand in his. She's still not ready to let him change the terms of their relationship – if ever she'll be ready for that – but she gets his point, feeling blessed that she has him.

John drops by at Teyla's quarters after he's walked Louise back to her own and dropped a chaste kiss on her forehead, not pushing her limits. "I wanted to thank you," he tells Teyla as they speak in hushed tones near Torren's crib. He looks fondly at the little one who's currently sleeping. "I do agree I shouldn't push Louise's limits. She's not ready for anything else than being my friend and I'm sure not ready to lose her so I'll just stay put for now. But Teyla," he adds, knowing his two friends have become very close and spend quite a lot of time in each other's company. "If she decides she finally wants something else," he says, shuffling his feet, looking embarrassed.

She chuckles. "I'll let her know you'll be more than happy to woo her. Did I get it right, John?"

He bites his bottom lip. "Yes, Ma'am. More than happy..."

TBC


	56. Chapter 56

_Chapter 56_

 _Spoilers for Enemy at the Gate/ end of season 5 – but a few chapters to go, though ;)_

"Let me come with you, John," she begs with beseeching eyes.

He shakes his head stubbornly. "You stay right here, Louise. I'm not taking you back to Earth. You'd only be in my way."

She scoffs and glares at him. "Thank you for the vote of confidence! I can help, you know. I'm not totally useless."

He drags her gently to the other end of the gate room, looking for a semblance of intimacy. "Sweetie," he whispers, bending towards her, "they've asked me to man the Chair. I'm already on it. And, yes, I confess – I don't want to have to worry about you. Hopefully, the City will protect you all. I know we're flying it back to Earth but there's still a chance our own ships will stop the Hive before we have to. Look, you're third in line for the Chair. Beckett is coming to fly it but if need be, I want you right here."

"You know Carson will do just fine," she protests. "I don't like you going there on your own. You should be with us. This is where you belong."

He smiles at her and caresses her cheek. "Thank you for that. And it does pain me to have to abandon you all but there's no other choice."

She leans into his touch, not caring who's watching them. "Just promise me you won't do anything reckless," she asks, her eyes boring into his.

He looks away. "Sweetie, I can't promise you that."

She gasps then growls. "Damn it, Sheppard! I need you to return to me in one piece." She feels the tears streaming down her cheeks before she can stop them. She brushes them away furiously.

He sees people walking past them briskly. It's clearly not the right time and place but if he doesn't do it now, he might never get the chance so he wraps her in his arms tightly and buries his head in her neck. She wraps hers instinctively around him too and sighs. "I'll do everything in my power to return to you, Louise. And in return, I want you to do the same. No gratuitous recklessness, OK?" She nods in his arms, not wanting to let go yet. He's the one who pushes her away gently, knowing he has to leave. He tilts her chin gently to him and looks her in the eye. "I need you to be brave, OK?"

She nods and sniffles. "Sorry, I'm a mess. Red eyes, runny nose, not very glamourous, uh?" she remarks self-deprecatingly.

He laughs out loud. "We're about to fight a Wraith invasion and all you think of is how you look, Rudolph?" he teases her.

She lifts her finger menacingly. "Not what I said. Don't twist my words, Sheppard." Then she sees his look and knows he got her there alright. She swats his arm, which makes him chuckle.

"There she is, finally. I knew your fiery nature was down there somewhere," he points at her chest. "That's the spirit! Hold the fort," he adds, grabbing his backpack, "I'll be right back."

He's walked through the event horizon not once looking back at her. She waits for him to be gone before she goes to sit on the stairs despondently. Amelia walks down the stairs and sits next to her. "You OK?" she worries.

She shrugs. "I have to."

"You feel useless, right?" Amelia says.

Louise chuckles humorlessly. "Yeah. I'm the cook. What can I do? Kick their ass with a ladle? But Colonel Sheppard is right. I'll be as useless there." She sighs. "I think I'm gonna head to the kitchen and see what still needs to be done."

"Ma'am," Amelia calls after her as she's leaving. "Colonel Sheppard said to keep an eye on you. I'll check on you in half an hour, OK?"

Louise huffs. "You don't have to do this. I'll be OK as long as I have people to feed."

She shakes her head as she enters the kitchen. Everything has already been taken care of. No need to dally here so she returns to the Control Room. "Anything?" she asks Chuck.

He shakes his head. "Nothing, Ma'am, but I'll inform you the moment we have something."

She huffs. "The wait is gonna kill me before we reach Earth," she growls, making him smirk.

"You're not a patient woman, Ms Léger," Woolsey tells her as he ambles into the room.

She pouts. "No, I'm not!"

"Like a certain Colonel I know," he points out.

"Yeah, he's rubbing off on me, I guess," she replies cockily. Woolsey chuckles. In spite of the strain she's under, she's still keeping her sarcasm and fiery temper intact. "Sir, I mean it. It's killing me and on top of it, I'm pissed. I mean, I can't believe we've agreed to help that Todd guy!" she exclaims.

Ronon is standing near the consoles. He steps forward. "She's got a point," he remarks.

"We're past this, people," Woolsey replies. "It's not about Todd and his feud with his underling anymore. This goes much deeper. And I have to admit, I'm glad he helped with the ZPMs."

She slaps her hand on one of the consoles, earning herself a glare from the tech next to her. "Don't tell me you intend to cut him some slack?" she exclaims. "I'm telling you, Mr Woolsey, Sir," she adds, trying to still be respectful, "if John gets hurt, I'll kill the guy myself."

Ronon smirks. Woolsey chides her. "Now, now, Ms Léger, no need to resort to such threats."

She glares at him. "It's no threat. No threat at all!"

She walks out of the room, her fists clenched to her sides. She feels useless once more. If they get out of this one alive, she tells herself, she won't let that happen again. They'll need to re-evaluate her position on the team because she sure won't allow for it. If they want her on Atlantis, they need to know she won't let them see her as the defenseless petite woman she was when she first came here. John needs to understand. He either gets the whole package or nothing at all.

"Ms Léger?" Woolsey finds her sitting despondently in her kitchen, a book opened in front of her, her eyes lost in the distance.

She lifts her head and looks at him hopefully. "Sir, any news from John? Or Rodney?" They've left almost an hour ago for a foray into the hive ship and she's worried sick, especially as they're themselves stuck in the middle of nowhere and unable to help Earth or know what's going on there in any way. She's asked to go with them but Woolsey has refused her. Neither in the team would agree to it anyway. They know Sheppard would never forgive them should something happen to her. "You're not cut out for that kind of mission, so that's a no, Ms Léger," Woolsey has told her sternly. She's stomped out to her kitchen and not come round ever since.

He shakes his head. "No, nothing. Look, I know it sounds bad but it's probably not. With the hive's gate supersiding our own, we can't contact Earth. We'll have to wait until we're there." He smiles encouragingly, seeing her look of worry. "And we might be there much earlier than planned," he adds. "I've come here to tell you Dr Zelenka is about to power the wormhole device."

She looks nonplussed. "Rodney told me about it but I thought his research was far from complete."

"We don't have the choice, Ms Léger," he sighs. "We either join Earth in the fight against the hive or we won't have to worry about anything anymore," he says ominously.

She gulps and nods quietly. "Can I help in any way?" she offers.

He shakes his head. "I just wanted you to know, Louise," he replies with a smile. He's reverted to calling her by her name, like he does when they are not on duty.

"Thank you, Richard. I appreciate." She attempts to smile but fails poorly.

"He'll be fine, Louise," he tries to reassure her.

She scoffs. "You don't know that. For all we know, he's out there, going top gun on the hive, ready to sacrifice himself to take them down."

He lifts his eyebrows. "He must be in the chair by now," he counters her gently.

She shakes her head. "You know things are never that simple with John Sheppard," she replies despondently.

She sighs in relief as Carson splashlands the City. She taps her headset and asks Amelia if they've heard from Rodney's team or John but is told that for now, they're having to process all the intel they're receiving from Stargate Command. "What were the last reports?" she insists impatiently.

"That Dr McKay was still on the hive ship and that from what we understood, Colonel Sheppard had flown his F-302 into the hive with a nuke," the other woman tells, wincing. She knows Louise is like her. She is resilient except when she's kept out of the loop. That drives her crazy.

Louise's hands start shaking. She breathes out, trying to keep her fears at bay. She thanks Amelia then severes the connection. She leaves the kitchen after giving a few orders to her staff and heads for the interrogation room where they're keeping the prisoner. "I want to see the prisoner," she demands. The two marines guarding the door shake their heads sternly.

"No, Ma'am. You need Mr Woolsey's orders first. He's in there already. You'll have to wait," she's told.

She paces in front of the room until the doors whoosh open and Woolsey makes his way out. She walks in before anyone has the time to react. "Ms Léger, no!" he snaps. She glares at him over her shoulder and plods on. "At least, leave your gun with the guards," he relents, sighing. He passes his hand over his face tiredly. He's just informed Todd of the latest developments, out of pure civility, he's told him. The rest – his life, as well as his freedom – lie in the hands of the IOA.

She hands her gun impatiently and enters the room with him in toe. She points her finger accusingly at the Wraith, looking and feeling murderous, running on adrenaline alone. "I'm warning you. If Sheppard does not return to us unscathed, I'll kill you. Pure and simple. No paperwork and no compassion. I've killed a Wraith before, I can do it again," she adds, staring him down.

He stands from his chair cautiously but sees she's got no weapon with her. "You're John Sheppard's mate," he points out. "I see he chose well."

She flushes and growls. "Who I am is of no interest to you, but no, I am not his "mate" as you say."

He tilts his head to the side and narrow his eyes at her. "Interesting..."

She scoffs. "What is?" she demands.

"How you defend him one moment and try to deny it the next. Humans are indeed complicated. I wonder if you're as strong as he is..." he wonders.

She scoffs self-deprecatingly. "Strong? You've not taken a good look at me!"

"I was not talking about your size, human. I was talking about what's in there," he says, tilting his head at hers. "You must be, seeing how connected you two are." He looks her in the eye and she feels a headache shooting through her brain, making her wobbly.

"Enough!" Woolsey snaps and grabs her arm, pulling her backwards. He points his finger at the prisoner. "If you ever want to see the light of day again, I advise you strongly against getting on my wrong side, or Colonel Sheppard's."

Todd roars with laughter. "She's got interesting thoughts, that one," he remarks, ignoring the threat. "Her mind is strong but her feelings? I've never encountered such a messy brain."

Louise glares at him, rubbing her temples. "I forbid you to read my mind. My feelings are mine and mine alone. And FYI, feelings do not reside in our brains. They are the stuff of our hearts, something you will never comprehend," she says disdainfully.

He scoffs. "I understand more than you think, Louise Léger. And you, in return, are not very insightful when it comes to sorting out your feelings."

She gasps and tears well-up in her eyes. If he's scanned her thoughts as she thinks he has, he's seen right through her, something she refuses to do for herself. She tilts her head cockily. "Then you know it was no empty threat – he doesn't come back, you're dead." She sees she's struck a nerve. She wheels around and stomps to the door.

Woolsey chides her as soon as they're out. "You should have been more cautious, Ms Léger. These creatures exploit every weakness."

She looks him in the eye coldly. "My compassion and worry for my friends are no weakness, Mr Woolsey. They're my strength. In the end, their lack of it will be their downfall."

Woolsey sighs. You don't pick a fight with her and hope to win. He notices she's allowed herself to talk about her feelings but has not yet dared use the word love.

"Hey," he greets her with a grin, "there you are!" She walks up to them with a smile and takes in the view of the ocean and the bridge in the distance. They make room for her so she can lean on the railing.

"I was just tying a few loose ends for dinner," she explains. "You guys must be hungry after the day we've had."

John pulls her to him with an arm around her shoulders then sneaks the other around her waist. He leans in and digs his head in her hair, breathing her in. "God, it feels good to have you safe here," he mutters, kissing her neck.

A few days ago, she'd still have minded but it seems they've finally found their pace. He doesn't push her but he needs to cuddle and truth be told, after all they've been through, they both need to reconnect so she wraps her arms around her waist, caressing his forearm, and leans back to settle against him. "I've always loved the sight of that bridge," she whispers to him. "San Francisco is my favorite city on Earth. It feels like home away from home."

"What do you say I steal a jumper and get the gang there for a tour and maybe dinner on pier 39?" he whispers conspiratorially in her ear, making her giggle. His five o'clock shadow is tickling the sensitive skin of her neck, just under her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

"I heard you, Colonel," Mr Woolsey informs him with a stern look but she sees the twinkle in his eyes.

"Ah, come on, boss," John whines playfully. "We've saved the day – again. Cut us some slack..."

Woolsey chuckles. "Want to give the IOA a heart attack?"

Louise giggles. "I'm sure he does. Actually, John, I've had a picnic prepared for everyone. Thought we could enjoy the evening and watch the sun set from the piers."

"That's an excellent idea," Rodney compliments her. "Actually, I'm ravenous. Is it ready?"

Louise snorts. "When are you not? And yes, it's ready. There's a buffet in the mess hall. You guys grab whatever you want and go sit outside."

They all start leaving. "You coming?" Jennifer asks her.

"In a minute," Louise replies and leans her head on John's shoulder.

Jennifer smiles at him and winks. "Sure, take your time."

They remain silent, enjoying the moment.

"I thought I'd lost you again," she finally confesses.

"I thought the same, you know." He kisses the top of her head. "We have to stop worrying about what might happen, Louise, and enjoy what we have while we have it," he sighs.

She turns in his arms and drops a peck on his lips, startling him. A smile spreads on hers, something he hasn't seen in a long while – a happy, lazy smile. "Definitely," she agrees. "Come on, let's join the others. I'm hungry too."

They've filled a tray for them both and are now sitting side by side with their feet dangling over the ocean. He tickles her. "Ain't it a great day?" he sighs with content.

Ronon agrees loudly, his mouth full. Louise stares him down so he chuckles and almost chokes on his food. She sees Amelia slap his back a couple of times then leave her hand on his shoulder. She tilts her head at them, her eyes crinkling with happiness. "I'm sure glad he's found someone," she tells John. "She's perfect for him."

He nods but changes the subject. "Mr Woolsey told me the City is gonna stay here for the time being. We'd better start making some plans."

She pouts. "I never thought we'd come back to Earth."

"Is that a problem?" he says, rubbing her arm.

She shrugs. "Actually, no. I could use a little vacation."

He looks besumed. "You? A vacation? I didn't even know you knew that word!" he teases her.

She snorts. "Well, look who's talking, Mister!" she counters, tucking her tongue at him.

He bumps his shoulder against hers. "I could use a little vacation with you," he offers. "Road trip along the coast? A little surfing here, a little sightseeing there, and long naps on the beach," he adds, sighing with content.

"You guys are planning a trip? Mind if we come too?" Ronon asks, butting in.

John rolls his eyes, making Louise giggle. "Sweetie," he informs her, "I'm afraid we're gonna have to rent a mini-van if we take all the kids with us."

TBC

 _I was listening to Billy Currington's I Got a Feeling when I wrote this chapter. It inspired me for John's behavior towards Louise. I guess he finally understands he needs to leave it on cruise control and let her choose when she's ready for more._


	57. Chapter 57

_Chapter 57_

 _This is post Season 5 so technically, we're entering Season 6!_

"Hey, honey, I'm home," he banters, plopping down on the couch next to her and dropping a kiss on the top of her head. She yelps in fright, making him chuckle.

"John? What the hell are you doing here?" she cries out, her hand on her heart, breathing hard from the fright he's given her.

He wraps his arm around her shoulders and makes her sit back in the couch, still chuckling. "Sorry, it was too tempting. I just came back," he adds, answering her question.

"I didn't hear you coming in. You scared the shit out of me," she accuses him.

"Yeah, well about that..." he says, pouting.

She threatens him with her finger. "Oh, no, don't start again! I can take care of myself."

He growls. "Louise, we've had this conversation before but I won't let you go down easy on that one. I need you to be safe."

She shakes her head. "God, John, don't start. You've just arrived."

He relents because she's right. He's just arrived and he hasn't seen her for almost a month. He puts his feet on the coffee table and tries to relax, wrapping his arm more closely around her. "I missed you, little witch," he whispers in her ear. "How have you been doing?"

She smiles against his chest. "Good, I suppose. Except you were not here and I missed you too, FYI."

He rewards her with a kiss on her head again. "How are the repairs to the guest house going?"

She grins. "Good too. I hired a couple more workers. It should be finished by the end of the week and from then on, I'll plan the interior decoration with that gal from Sacramento I told you about."

He nods, remembering a recent conversation, and tickles her. "About time me and the guys got our new digs, uh?"

She looks up at him, glaring mockingly, and rolls her eyes. "You are so demanding, especially for you people who come and crash once in a blue moon."

He pouts. "You know we're doing what we can."

She smiles and kisses his cheek. "I know. Regardless, I worked as fast as I could and next time you drop by, you'll each have your own room. I can spare one of my rooms for tonight though," she offers. "Business is picking up quite well but it's mid-week and most of my guests won't arrive until Thursday night. You're staying tonight, right?"

He smiles. "Course I am. And tomorrow night as well, if it's not too much trouble."

She shakes her head in disbelief. She's all too happy to see him after being apart for so long. She's been back on Earth for almost six months now and has to admit to herself she misses him dearly.

With the last five years' wages, she's bought a plot of land in North Lake Tahoe that came with a dilapidated cabin that used to belong to some business magnate back in the 1930s. The place had been abandoned for years but when she saw it, she knew she'd found the place where she could settle and run her business.

Atlantis is back on Earth and running with a skeleton crew at the moment, pending a decision from the IOA and Homeworld Security as to what to do with it in the near future so she didn't see any reason to stay there. John and the others work for the most part with the SGC and she would feel useless in the now too quiet City.

Here, she's got her work cut out for her and is starting to make good money with the hiking and skiing vacationers. She's already hosted quite a few people from the SGC as well as former members of the expedition. Bates has already come twice on day-offs to just relax and enjoy the view on the lake and Louise's cooking.

The main cabin has been repaired and modernized and set to accommodate ten guests a night. John and Ronon have often come to help, lending a hand and offering advice, while she worked in the garden once the latter had also had a makeover. Now it's the turn of the old guest house. Once she's done with it, she'll be able to accommodate her friends whenever they wish to come and see her.

"Will you have time to look at the repairs tomorrow? I want you to decide where you want your room." She knows he won't come often but needs him to know it's his home too.

When she told the team about her wish to settle near Lake Tahoe, they all offered to invest money in it, contending they'd be there on their down time anyway. She was touched by their gesture but it's John who put the most money in it, apart from herself. She protested at first, upsetting him. "Look, Louise," he'd said. "I don't have a home to go to, OK? You're home to me. I'm buying the land with you. Period."

He smiles. She always looks happy to show him what's new and how well things are going. The Bed and Breakfast has only been running for a month but she already has it booked for the next four at weekends and with summer on the way, most of the weeks as well.

"You're gonna need to hire a couple more people if you don't want to be exhausted by the end of the season," he tells her.

"John," she chides him, rolling her eyes, "I managed on Atlantis. Ten people a day is really no big deal, you know. I don't need more people here, especially not in my kitchen," she adds, making him laugh out loud.

"Oh yeah, right! That's why you don't want anyone around! Your realm shall remain untouched, my lady," he teases her, "but you do need to have help around the house."

She slaps his chest playfully with the back of her hand. "You take care of saving the universe, Mister, and I'll take care of the house, OK?"

He snorts, seeing the mirth in her eyes, then sobers up quickly. "I'm sorry I wasn't around to help you more. Saving the universe as you say was much easier when I didn't have to commute."

She shakes her head and smiles. "Don't worry. As long as you can borrow a jumper or get beamed down to join me, I'm not complaining."

He turns to her, looking surprised. "No reproach? No questions about where I was all this time?"

"Nope, John. I've decided there isn't much I could do about it so I'm just enjoying the time we have together."

He tickles her, making her squirm. "Who are you and what have you done to my friend?"

She laughs out loud and tries to get out of his grip – to no avail. "I won't ask questions but I can remind you I still have clearance so you can talk to me whenever you want and I'll be most happy to listen. But I won't pester you. Lord knows we're not a couple, John, and anyway, you'll never have to fear me turning into a nosy shrew."

He ruffles her hair she's let grow again, making her look pixie, to give himself some countenance. He's proud of her for acting cool and unruffled even if he surmises she still worries for him – for them all. "I lo..."

"Shut up, Sheppard," she growls, not wanting him to say it out loud.

She still doesn't feel comfortable with that part of their relationship – how more open he is with her than with the others and how more cuddly and flirty he is with her these days - again.

" _He doesn't treat me like his sister anymore – not since my relationship with Chris," she's told Teyla._

" _Took you long enough to realize that," the other woman pointed out wickedly._

" _Is it because I look younger?" she wondered._

 _Teyla shook her head. "It might be but I don't think that's the point. John might act like a womanizer but he's far from that. I think when you dated Chris he finally realized you were not just a friend – you were a woman, and one men were more than willing to court, even younger ones."_

 _Louise flushed, embarrassed at having it voiced out loud. "I didn't mean to hurt him," she whispered, thinking about John's look of hurt when he'd found out about her and Chris._

" _I know. But in a way, it was a good thing. It made him understand you were not a given in his life. He had to fight for you if he wanted to keep you."_

He pouts and stands, offering her his hand. "It's late and I'm tired. I think I'll crash."

She winces, knowing she's hurt him. "I forgot to ask you if you'd had dinner," she apologizes.

"I'm good. Don't worry. I know where the fridge is. You're not my free housekeeper, Louise," he adds, remembering a conversation they had some time ago about her former husband and her low opinion of men in general before she came to Atlantis.

"I'll show you to your room then."

He grabs the duffle bag he's set in the hallway and follows her upstairs. Her own room is downstairs, by the kitchen, pantry and office.

"How many guests tonight?" he asks her in a hush tone.

"Just two. A couple of retirees. They've come to visit the area. They crashed early but will be up early too. I'll drop them at the bottom of the slopes so they can be up the mountain by early morning, before the haze sets in," she explains.

"What time will you be up?"

"Probably well before you. I'll prepare their picnic and drive them there. It won't take me more than a half hour for the round trip. I'll probably be back before you get up," she says, opening the door to his room. "The room is yours for tonight. Tomorrow, I've got full house. I'll give you my room and sleep in the office," she offers.

He shakes his head dismissively. "We'll get plenty of time to talk about that tomorrow." He kisses her forehead. "Night, Louise."

She gets up at five thirty to be on the safe side and takes a quick shower while she bakes her banana bread. When she gets into the kitchen to take it from the oven with her hair still wet, he's already there, dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt, and has beaten her to it.

"Morning, sunshine," he says, giving her his trademark grin and a bear hug. "Coffee?" he offers, grabbing a couple of mugs from the cupboard.

"You made coffee?"

"Don't look so surprised. I do know my way around a house, ya' know!" he teases her.

True, he does it all the time off-world but this feels so mundane, too mundane actually for him.

"Oh really?" she banters. "I'd always thought you were as useless as a chocolate teapot." She tucks her tongue at him and runs for cover on the other side of the island top, seeing his murderous look that only means she won't get out of this one unscathed.

He rounds the island top before she can move and wraps his arms around her waist and tickles her until she dissolves in laughter. "Surrender," he orders, his hands still holding her waist. She shakes her head, breathless, so he narrows his eyes at her. "Louise..." he warns her but she shakes her head once more, the corners of her lips turning up and her eyes crinkling with mirth. He pulls her to him, his eyes locked on hers. "I'm not useless, little witch," he whispers in her ear, pulling her flush to him, blowing on her neck, making her shiver. "Actually I can come in very handy, ya' know," he drawls lazy. She breathes in and out. Where did that come from? One minute they're bickering like kids and the next he's coming on to her, big time. It's the first time in a long while he is so flirty.

She's saved by a knock on the door and someone pushing it open. John growls but lets her go relunctantly when she disentangles herself from him. "Hi," a tall man with white hair says with a tentatively smile. "Sorry to bother you. I know it's awfully early but I couldn't sleep..."

John combs his hands through his hair, looking awkward. Louise covers her embarrassment quickly and motions for him to come in. "That's quite alright," she replies. "There's fresh coffee and a banana bread that is begging to be tasted and approved."

She sees John is ready to scamper off so she grabs his hand and pulls him to her side. "Ken, please meet John. He's here for a couple of days." The two men shake hands. She motions for them to sit at the island top. John grabs the pot from the counter and serves them coffee while she slices the banana bread. "You'll get a hearty breakfast later on," she informs her guest, making him laugh out loud.

"You sure know how to treat your guests, young lady. My wife and I are gonna need to take long walks if we want to burn up all the calories you feed us. Not that I complain though. You've pampered us," he adds with a grateful smile, making her blush slightly from the compliment, then turns to John. "Your wife sure knows how to cook. You're a lucky man."

Louise turns beet red with embarrassment and John winces, seeing her unease. "Oh, eh, well, we're not married," he informs the older man who laughs.

"Doesn't matter, young man. What matters is love, not promises made on a piece of paper. My wife and I, we've been together for forty years. Not everyday can be a honeymoon, sure, but I think I love her even more than when we met," he replies with a fond smile, his eyes twinkling. John smiles at him but doesn't deny it.

Louise busies herself, preparing the rest of the breakfast as well as their picnic. John grabs her hand as she passes him and makes her sit next to him. "Sweetie, you need to have breakfast first," he says with raised eyebrows. "The rest can wait."

She looks away, not trusting herself around him after what's just happened. She smiles briefly. "Sure, you're right, John. Eh, Ken, if you'll excuse me, I'll be right back." She heads to the bathroom attached to her room.

John stands and excuses himself. "Louise," he calls her from her office, "can I come in?"

She's checking her sugar level. It hurts him every time he sees her draw blood though she's told him a hundred times it's no big deal. "Yes, John?" she says, looking up at him.

"I'm sorry. I thought it was best to elude the matter. More answers would only have led to more questions," he apologizes.

She looks upset. "Not telling the truth is not right, John. It's as good as a lie."

"It was not a lie, Louise. I do love you and it's not because you hate the word it makes it a lie," he replies, looking hurt.

"I hate the word, John, because everyone uses it and it really means nothing. It's an empty promise for so many couples and so many friends. How many people told me back then they "loved" me?" she says through clenched teeth, making air quotes. "My mother, my husband, my so-called friends. But they took the first opportunity to show me it meant nothing."

He huffs. She told him once she was a basket case for love and he's starting to believe it's true. Look who's talking, he thinks sarcastically. Not so long ago, he had thought the same about himself.

"Teyla told me once they don't use the word love for mutual affection in her people. They just tell their significant other he or she fills their heart with joy," he tells her, not wanting to let her retreat into her shell once more. He's just arrived, for God's sake, and she's already building those walls around her heart again.

"Cante washte yama kahi," she whispers to herself then looks up at him, stunned.

He looks nonplussed. "Sorry, what?"

She shakes her head as if to clear it. "It's Cheyenne. It means the exact same thing – you fill my heart with joy."

"And it's no empty promise, Louise," he adds, leaving her office to join their guest.

"Anything the matter?" the older man asks him. "I shouldn't have come at such an early hour," he apologizes.

John shakes his head. "We're good. Don't worry. Louise and I have our routine. We bicker all the time and do wake up early."

"Military?" Ken wonders, eyeing John's dog tags.

"Air Force." He hopes the man won't ask too many questions. He doesn't like to lie.

"Must be hard for her to let you come and go." The old man pouts.

"She's used to it. Actually she was a subcontractor on my base when we met," John explains and pours himself some more coffee as Louise comes into the room.

"Yeah, I couldn't have him underfoot all the time," she banters, having heard their conversation. "He was a pain in the ass, always coming to my kitchen at night to get milk and cookies. Sneaky flyboys," she adds, tickling him.

He grabs her hand and kisses it, smiling at her. She looks more relaxed now she's had a minute to regroup. He knows she doesn't like to be crowded – pretty much like him. That's why they never really get mad at each other. All this bickering is just part of their routine.

Ken finishes his cup of coffee and stands. "I'm going to wake up my wife. I'll come for seconds in a bit," he says, winking and leaves. John stands and helps Louise tidy the breakfast table then offers his help for whatever needs to be done.

"It's your day-off, John. Try to rest," she declines.

He doesn't want to push her, so he decides to humor her. "OK, well, I'll just head for the guest house and see how things are doing there. I'll see you in a bit," he says, dropping a kiss on her head.

"John?" she calls after him as he leaves the kitchen. "You do too..." He stares, not getting it. She blushes. "I mean, you do fill my heart with joy." He grins, his hazel eyes lighting up. "But, don't get me wrong. You're still a pain in the ass," she adds, tucking her tongue out at him.

"Yes, Ma'am," he drawls and heads for the door with a smirk plastered on his face.

TBC

 _I love writing fluff. Sigh. Do you like reading it? ;)_


	58. Chapter 58

_Chapter 58_

"So," she asks him that night as they're having milk and cookies in her office after everyone has settled for the night. "What do you think of the guest house now it's almost finished?"

All the rooms of the main house are booked tonight and she's worked all day to prepare for all her guests' arrival. None have said they'd have dinner outside. It seems her reputation is now established and people don't only come to her place for the rooms and view. John has said nothing as he cannot expect her to drop everything to be with him at a moment's notice but she hasn't had a moment for him during the day.

"I like it. I'm sure the guys will love it when it's finished." He gazes into his glass of milk and falls silent.

"What's wrong, John?" she worries. He's not that quiet normally.

He shrugs. "Haven't seen you all day. Leaving tomorrow..."

She pouts. "I'm sorry. It's a bummer so many people were coming tonight and I had to prepare so many things for tomorrow as well, but now it's done, I'm all yours," she says with a tired smile.

"Yeah, and you think I'm going to keep you up when you're so tired, uh?" He smiles and stands, holding out his hand. "Come on, I'll tuck you in and crash on the couch," he says, nodding at the sofa sitting in the corner of her office. She used to sleep there when the house was not ready and she would come to survey the repairs.

She shakes her head. "No, you won't. And I want to spend time with you, not know you're in the next room when you'll be gone again for who knows how long."

He pouts. "I know. I'm sorry. But I did put in a request for a longer leave and I think I can come back for a couple of weeks at the end of next month," he says, trying to brighten her mood. "Lorne will be back and can fill in for me. I might even be able to spare Ronon as well and bring him with me." She smiles and looks away. "What?" he asks, seeing her forlorn look.

"I miss you guys, I guess. I'm not complaining or anything, you know. Pretty lucky to have all that," she says, her eyes sweeping the house and its area in general. "I just wish I could see you more often."

He tugs at her hand. "I'm here now so let's make the most of it. We can sit on your bed and watch a movie," he offers, getting his tablet out of his bag. "I've got plenty of new space operas in there," he adds enticingly, waggling his eyebrows.

She shakes her head at his antics but agrees. They get ready for the night and settle on the bed and watch half of the latest Star Trek before she starts nodding off on his shoulder. "I think it's my cue to head for the couch," he says, switching off his tablet and standing.

"Don't," she protests. "There's plenty of room here. We slept in the same bed on Midway Station and it was much more cramped than here."

He hesitates. They've just had this awkward moment this morning. It might not be wise to sleep in the same bed. "Louise, I don't think it's a good idea..."

She huffs. "Why?" She can be so stubborn sometimes and so blind too.

"I'm just a man, damn it!" he growls in frustration and stands abruptly from the bed. "And you're, you're..." he stammers, at a loss for a proper way to put it.

"A woman?" she sniggers, standing too, and rounds the bed to stand before him, blocking his way out.

He rolls his eyes and grabs her shoulders, wanting nothing more at the moment than to shake her to put some sense in that thick head of hers. "No sweetie, I mean yes, of course you're a woman! And you're, how shall I put it?"

"Attractive?" she offers.

"I was going for hot," he barks back, pissed at himself for being so clumsy around her lately, "but yeah, attractive will do."

She locks eyes with him, big light brown eyes wide with the realization of what he's just said. "You find me hot?" she asks sheepishly.

He takes a tentative step closer, getting toe to toe with her. She looks up at him, feeling suddenly very small and stupid. "Hell, yeah," he answers, his eyes turning darker. "How can you not know?" That boggles his mind. Hasn't she looked at herself once in a mirror, especially ever since Michael gave her back almost ten years of her life?

"Oh," she answers not too brightly, the realization of the mess she's in hitting her like a ton of bricks. She gulps. "So, just to make sure I understand what you're saying, I fill your heart with joy and you find me hot?"

He nods once, biting his bottom lip. They've come a very long way from the moment they first met in her kitchen back then and yet, there's still such a long way to go, he realizes. She's still that same person, unsure of herself, convinced that she'll never deserve to mean the world to anyone.

He sees if he doesn't make a move real soon, she's going to run for cover again. He sneaks an arm around her waist and pulls her closer, lifting her chin with his other hand. "Louise, the only question left to be answered is, are you going to hit me if I kiss you?"

She can't help chuckling at the mental image of her slapping him but sobers up when she sees how stormy his eyes look at the moment. She shakes her head shyly so his lips touch hers softly, tentatively first, just to give her time to adjust. He brushes his lips on hers, not kissing yet, just ghosting over them. She opens them just a little and reaches out tentatively so he leans forward and takes her bottom lip between his, suckling just so, and pulls her flush to him. "Louise..." he moans, "God, you're killing me. I've wanted this for so long. Please tell me you're not gonna change your mind."

She chuckles and slides her hands up his chest and around his neck. "Not going anywhere. But damn it, Colonel, stop talking," she mocks him. He wraps his arms tightly around her waist and shoulders, his eyes twinkling with mirth, and finally kisses her soundly. It's her time to moan, her body tingling with warmth. All those times they've allowed themselves to enjoy a moment of affection have not prepared her for what she's feeling right now.

She pulls him towards her, letting him explore her mouth at will, begging for more, her eyes shutting close as his mouth leaves hers to trail wet kisses down her neck, making her whimper, when his phone starts buzzing insistantly in his pocket.

He relunctantly retrieves it and abandons her neck to answer it, his eyes murderous but his arm still wrapped tightly around her waist, keeping her flush to him, making her blush as she feels him harden against her.

"What?" he barks in the phone after having checked the caller ID. "Yes, I got that. Can't it wait until tomorrow?" He rolls his eyes in exasperation, listening intently as the person explains something to him. "Uh, uh," he says from time to time, taking advantage of the long speech the caller is giving him to trail silent kisses up and down her neck again, making her squirm and giggle.

"Yes, well, might not be alone, McKay," he finally replies. He rolls his eyes but doesn't let Louise out of his grip, seeing her blush as she realizes who's on the phone with him. "Alright, now listen, Rodney, because your life depends upon your answer," he growls sarcastically. "Can that wait until tomorrow? Cuz I'm in the middle of something here and I hate unfinished business."

He listens to the answer. "None of your business, buddie. Alright, listen. I need to tie a few loose ends so give me a few minutes to get my stuff and say my goodbyes. You can beam me up when I get the transponder from my bag, alright? Stand by," he tells him before ending the call and stashing the phone back in his pants pocket, clearly pissed.

She looks at him in alarm. "McKay is on board the Daedalus and ready to beam you up?" she asks.

He nods. "Sorry, sweetie. It can't wait but it also means if everything goes according to plan, I'll be back sooner than expected," he apologizes.

She gulps. "So you mean you've just told Rodney you were in the middle of something and he knows you're at the B&B?" she groans in frustration.

He bites his bottom lip. "I see your point... Sorry, I didn't think. My mind went blank when I started kissing you." He looks sheepish.

She huffs. "Wonderful! I'll never hear the end of it."

He rubs his nose against hers. "Hey, let's not worry about this now, OK? I just have a few minutes ahead of me and I need to make good use of them. Come here," he says, wrapping his arms around her once more and kissing her, not asking for permission this time. When he relunctantly lets go, her lips are swollen from the searing kiss he's given her and her heart beating as if it were going to leap out of her chest.

He closes his eyes briefly, schooling himself to cool down before he can be beamed up on board the ship. He chuckles as he stashes his belongings in his bag. "Wow, never had so little time to come down from a high before having to stand in front of any of my superiors. Caldwell need not know you can turn me on in the blink of an eye, sweetie," he says with a wink, heading for the bathroom to change back into his day clothes. He returns barely a minute later and she sees him hesitate but he reaches for her hand and kisses it then slides the transponder in his shirt pocket. "Will see you in a bit, hon'. You won't even have time to miss me," he assures her before he's beamed up.

But miss him she does and worry too. He's said he'll be back sooner but days turn into a week and then two weeks have passed and she hasn't heard from him so she calls from her secure phone and is told all is well and not to worry by Woolsey himself.

It's been almost three very long and lonely weeks when he finally appears on her doorstep one evening as she's putting the finishing touch to her dessert – crepes filled with orange marmalade and topped with chocolate then flambé with orange liqueur. She prefers to do it in front of the guests because it's quite a show and he waits patiently as she finishes serving everyone around the table – all four people staying at her B&B that night.

She hasn't seen him but has felt his presence. He's leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest to give himself countenance. He briefly greets the guests and grabbing her hand, excuses themselves and pulls her in the kitchen, closing the door shut impatiently. He wraps his arms around her and buries his head in her neck, breathing her in. "God, I've missed you," he sighs and starts kissing his way up her neck.

Her mind shuts down from the surge of want she feels is building up in her stomach. "What happened back there?" she mumbles.

"Later," he mutters impatiently and takes hold of her lips with his and she almost forgets to breathe.

It takes her a few minutes to finally come down from her high and force him to stop kissing her. "John, I have guests in the dining-room, please. I need to attend to them."

He growls. "Not fair. I don't want to have to share you," he protests. "Not now." She gives him a chiding look. "Alright. I'll do my best to be polite," he relents.

She giggles. "And charming," she adds. "They're going to turn in early anyway. They're leaving at dawn to head for Yosemite. And after that, I have no one for several days. You're staying, right?" she adds, suddenly worried.

He grins at her. "Yes, Ma'am. I'm all yours and this time, I mean it. I've told them they'd have to find someone else should the Wraith appear in orbit. No house calls for two full weeks."

She introduces him to the guests who try hard not to smirk, having surmised John is not just "a friend". She fixes him dessert as he says he's not really hungry but the crepes look too enticing to resist them. She makes coffee and tea and they all sit in the den and talk about the area and what they're planning for the rest of their vacation. They soon retreat to their rooms, having been assured by Louise they'll get breakfast before they leave.

She fills the tray with the cups and pots to take them back to the kitchen and tells him she won't be a minute. He takes it from her hands and to the kitchen then leads her out to her room. "I haven't finished, John. I need to clean and prepare the table for tomorrow."

He shushes her. "We'll set the alarm clock earlier and I'll help you. I've been gone three weeks, Louise, and all that time all I could think about was you. Don't deny me that moment."

She relents and wraps her arms around his middle, laying her head on his chest. "I thought maybe you'd changed your mind..." She lets it hang in there, the confession that she's still not sure this is real.

He snorts. "Louise, now I've got you where I want, you'll never get rid of me."

She's the one to initiate the kissing this time, trailing small kisses on his chest and fumbling with his shirt buttons. At first he lets her have it her way but soon her lips are sealed to his and they're both breathless, her body flush to his, making him know how hungry she is for his touch.

He pushes her gently away from him and makes her sit on the side of her bed. He crouches in front of her. "Louise, wait! Sweetie, this is going way too fast," he whispers, his eyes dark with want. He breathes out. "I need you to slow down or this will be over before it got started."

She groans in frustration. "Too fast? You got to be kidding me, right? Five years we've known each other, John! And during the last two years you've flirted with me on a regular basis, making my life a living hell. And now you want to slow down?" she exclaims. "Now, that takes the cake!" He sniggers at seeing her so wound up. She glares at him and stands then starts pacing. "I can't believe it! I missed you, waited for you, and now you want to take your own sweet time?" He knows when she's pissed there's no way you can stop her. She's on a roll and needs to vent off her anger before he can put his two cents in. She turns to him. "Get out!" she growls, pointing at the door. "Get out before I say something I'll regret."

He hangs his head but leaves quietly. She needs time to regroup. He walks to the hallway and steps out on the front porch. The night is clear and chilly. It will warm up soon though with the summer and she'll be able to use the gazebo he's built for the evening meals. She steps outside and closes the door behind her. She wraps her arm around his waist. "I'm sorry," she whispers.

He turns to her with a smile and takes her in his arms. "I'm sorry too. I didn't mean to anger you. I just don't want to jump the gun. Well, actually, I do," he chuckles, making her giggle, "but I want it to be just how I'd imagined it and having guests in the house is not part of the picture," he whispers in her ear.

She blushes. "Oh, so, is that because you're a screamer?" she can't help teasing him.

He stares her down. "I don't see what's wrong with that, sweetie, but actually it was more to make sure I wouldn't have to hush you when you screamed," he banters back.

"Uh, uh, not a screamer," she replies cockily.

He sniggers. "Believe me, when I'm done with you, you will be," he replies smugly, making her snort and dissolve into laughter.

"So what do you propose we should do?" she asks. "Cuz if you offer to sleep in another bedroom, I might as well stay up all night, John," she pouts.

He shakes his head and leads her back inside, seeing she's shivering from the cold night air. "I was going for cuddling all night and kissing a little – and falling asleep in the same bed," he adds, seeing her look of disappointment. "And when your guests have departed and we're all alone..." he adds enticingly, nuzzling her neck, "we'll have all day to test that theory of yours you're not a screamer."

He ends up sitting in the armchair by her bed with her on his lap and they talk in hushed tones about her plans for the summer – having a chicken coop built and finishing the vegetable garden. The time she's spent with Katie is a blessing as she now knows more things about plants than she'd ever dreamed she could learn. She looks wistfully in the distance and he sees she's sad for her friend. "Have you heard from her recently?" he asks.

She shakes her head. "An email last year saying she missed our conversations and my food. I know she's still working with Stargate Command though but I've no idea where."

"You should invite her here. I mean, when Rodney is not around," he adds, wincing.

She sighs. "It's a good idea. I'm just sad it didn't pan out the way she wanted. Though I do like Jennifer very much," she adds.

"I guess some things are not meant to happen and some are. Period," he answers with a smile. "Look at us. We could have grown apart time and again but here we are, finally." He kisses her, making her sigh with content. He chuckles. "Ya' know, I'll never grow tired of hearing those sighs," he says, kissing her again. She wraps her arms around his neck and shifts on his lap to get a better angle, making him moan. "Lord, Louise, don't do that! Have mercy on me. I've been trying to keep my cool for over an hour but if you're not careful, you might have a very horny man on your hands," he threatens her, making her giggle. He glares at her. "Louise, so help me God..." he rumbles.

She giggles some more then holds her hands up away from his body as a gesture of goodwill. "Sorry," she amends, trying hard not to laugh.

He shakes his head in disbelief. "If someone had told when we met you were nothing but a little brat, I would never have believed them. Now though..."

She smirks smugly, but gets up and holds out her hand. "Come on, it's late and we have to get up early. I think it's time we hit the sack."

He stands and wraps her in his arms then moves her slowly backwards towards the bed. "How am I gonna wait until tomorrow, I have no idea," he mutters to himself then helps her get under the covers and climbs in next to her.

"Today," she corrects him. "And you need to sleep if you want to make me scream," she whispers in his ear and drops a light kiss on his lips before turning on her side with a sigh.

He scoots closer and wraps his arm around her waist, his other arm on her pillow, sighing too. "You fill my heart with joy," he whispers, kissing her neck, "and my body with desire," he adds, his body pressing against hers to make his point.

She giggles. "Same here," she sighs before drifting off to sleep.

They've barely had a few hours of sleep – not enough to feel rested but she shrugs it off because for the next fourteen days and nights, he's all hers. They've gotten up at the crack of dawn to prepare breakfast for the departing guests. At least, she has, because he's spent most of his time with his arms wrapped around her and his chin on her shoulder, making her squirm. She's finally set her foot down and sent him to sit at the island top contending she can't focus when his body is flush with hers. He's tried to use his best puppy look on her but she rolled her eyes and ignored him.

He sniggers. "You know you're gonna pay for that, Léger. As soon as those people's cars have disappeared round the bend, I promise you you'll have to make amends for punishing me like a schoolboy."

She tilts her head, defying him. "Used to be a teacher, remember. Habits die hard, I guess," she says cockily, getting a slap on her butt as he stands to get a second cup of coffee.

She yelps. "You're so gonna pay for that too, Sheppard!"

"A tit for a tat," he drawls cockily.

"I made you scream," he informs her smugly, a few hours later. "And moan... and beg for more..." he adds, dropping kisses on her nose as he adds to the list, his arms on both sides of her head. His hazel eyes are twinkling, filling her heart with happiness for the joy she sees there. She's exhausted but utterly satisfied.

"You turned my bones into mush," she sighs with content. "I don't even know how I'm ever gonna be able to move from this bed."

He settles next to her and laces his fingers with hers. "You don't have to."

"Aren't you hungry? It's almost two," she says, glancing at the clock on her bedside table.

He jumps from the bed in alarm. "What?! Oh shit, I forgot!" He grabs his clothes from the floor where they ended up in a heap this morning and throws hers at her. "Get dressed, Léger. We're late!"

She looks bemused but doesn't budge. "Why? What's going on?"

He looks sheepish. "I might have made an appointment for us and forgotten to tell you about it. There's that guy who's gonna drop by."

She props her head on her hand but doesn't make a move to get up. "What for?"

He turns and sees her watching him as he gets his jeans on. "Enjoying the view, Léger?" he teases her sarcastically.

She giggles. "Yeah. And I must say it's quite to my liking, Colonel," she answers cockily.

He doesn't know why but it turns him on every single time she calls him that and not John. John is for whispers and moans and screaming too, he smirks inwardly, remembering how wonderful it had felt this morning to discover she indeed loved everything he did to her. But Colonel, she keeps that for when she wants to tease him and turn him on.

"Not fair," he warns her, waggling his finger. "He'll be here any minute now." He walks to the bed briskly and pushes the comforter away from her, making her shiver, and offers himself a couple of seconds to pause and enjoy the view. "You're beautiful," he sighs then snap out of it. "Now, get dressed, lady. There's a surprise for you." They hear a car in the driveway and he gets downstairs, letting her dress as he opens the door. When she reaches the hallway, they're outside.

The man tilts his cap at her. "Ma'am. Nice to meet you," he says, extending a hand. "I'd heard about your place but hadn't had time to check it out. It's a beautiful plot of land you have here and a very nice house too. Plenty of room for the little one to explore and roam freely. That's good," he tells John with a smile.

She narrows her eyes at John. "Sheppard," she says warningly. "What have you done? And who's that little one?"

The man smirks. "He didn't tell ya', uh? He said you loved surprises."

"I do not," she replies through clenched teeth. "And you know it," she adds, pointing accusingly at John.

He roars with laughter. "Firecracker!" he points at her with his thumb for the other man's benefit who snorts and opens the door to his truck.

"Here you go, Ma'am," the man tells her, handing her a small ball of fur who looks sleepily at her. "He's potty trained and will not stray if you teach him right away where the boundaries are. Has no name yet either but you can call him Doggy for the time being." He deposits the puppy in her arms and steps back, crossing his arms on his chest and looking at her intently to see how she's going to react. She looks from the puppy who's currently endeavoring to climb up her shoulder to John who is grinning so much he could power up a couple of ZPMs.

"You got me a puppy?" she finally asks John.

"Uh, uh," he answers. "Stop gaping, Léger. You thought I had forgotten that conversation about how much you wanted to have one someday?" He tilts his head at her knowingly.

"You remembered?" She looks on the brink of tears. "No one has ever done something so sweet for me," she says caressing the puppy who is licking her neck. She walks up to him and gives him a chaste kiss on his lips. "Thank you."

He nods. "You're most welcome, Louise. And that was a selfish thing to do because, let's face it, I wanted a dog too," he adds, winking at the other man who snorts.

"That, he does, Ma'am. He spent an hour trying to decide which one he wanted for you."

John wraps his arm around her waist and caresses the puppy. "He's an Australian shepherd. They like to run and they're faithful companions."

"He'll enjoy the winter weather too," the other man adds. "Some are even used by mushers in Canada. He's robust. He's also had all his shots. I have the paperwork in my trunk," he tells Sheppard who follows him. They retrieve the few items he's asked the other man to find for him – a leash, a mattress and dog food.

"When did you two meet?" she wonders. "you've been gone for three weeks."

He pouts. "I might have come and seen Ray here," he explains, tilting his head towards the other guy, "when I was here last time. You were busy, I was bored, so I took the car and wandered around a bit. I ended up at his place... and fell in love with those little things," he adds with a smile.

"He asked me to train him for you, Ma'am. This little guy here," he says, patting the dog's head, "won't pose any problem. I'll leave you my phone number and address though. I live on the South part of the lake. If you have any question or problem, don't hesitate to drop by or give me a call. And if you don't mind, I'll check on you in a month or so – see how things are doing. I like to keep in touch with my babies," he explains.

She nods, relieved she'll have someone to turn to should anything unexpected happen. "Why don't you come inside," she offers. "It's past lunch time but I can fix us something."

He shakes his head. "Must be on my way, Ma'am. Besides, I think your doggy needs to adjust to you without me around. Call me if you need help, though," he says as he gets in his truck.

They wave at him as his truck disappears at the end of the dirt road. She suddenly feels drained and hands John the puppy. "Wow, now talk about life changes! A man and a dog on the same day," she banters, making him chuckle. They let the dog wander in front of the house just to be on the safe side then get him inside and let him inspect the house. They finish the tour of the place with her office and room. The puppy sniffs around and jumps on her bed, settling at the foot, his little head between his paws, looking so cute she hesitates to say something but John is adamant.

"Now, listen buddy," he says, lifting him from the bed and setting him gently on the floor, "I'll be the one warming her bed from now on so you need to get down."

She shakes her head. "You two are a pair," she teases him, "but I agree with you. Let's find him a place for his mattress. Why not my office?" she offers, wandering around. "We can leave the door open and he won't feel too lonely at night."

John agrees and gets the mattress. "One thing, though," he says to the dog, "your mummy and I, we're gonna spend a lot of time in that room when I'm around so you'd better get used to seeing the "do not disturb" sign on that door."

The dog yelps at John and wags his tail enthusiastically. Louise giggles, but blushes all the same, John's innocent remark in passing triggering memories of that very morning. She fans herself with her hand. "It's hot in here, don't you think?" she remarks, making John snigger.

"If you're so hot, sweetie, you can lose a few layers, ya' know," he drawls lazily, pointing at her clothes.

She bites her bottom lip and blushes some more. "John, behave!"

He lifts his eyebrows. "There's no one here right now so no, I won't," he says before grabbing her waist and pulling her flush to him.

She protests. "John, the dog..."

He chuckles. "Let him wander downstairs for a while. I've closed the doors to the living area. He'll just have access to your office, the hallway and the kitchen. He cannot wreak much havoc. Besides, Ray's trained him. He'll wait for us to come for him. See, all covered. Now, can I get your undivided attention for the next hour or so?" he asks with hopeful eyes.

TBC


	59. Chapter 59

_Chapter 59_

She looks up from her cookbook, hearing someone knock on the door to her office. It's late and everyone has gone to their room, which is probably the only moment during the day when she can write about the new recipes she's tested and maybe read a little. The rest of the day is devoted to her guests, the garden and the dog. Winter is late this year so she can still spend some time outside and do a little weeding and planning for next year.

Katie has come by a couple of times, happy to see and help her friend. Louise is relieved to see she's moved on and is getting married next year. The summer has been busy, what with friends coming to spend time with her finally and most of her rooms being booked round the clock. She's set aside a few days though for John so they could have time for themselves, those first two weeks they had at the end of spring being way too few to make up for lost time. She thinks about all the lost opportunities they've had over the years to change the course of their lives but then it would probably not have been the same for them, had they not been through all this together.

She lifts her head and sees Bates smiling at her. "Mind if I come in?"

She shakes her head and motions for him to sit. Her dog, who's now reached his adult size, stands and welcomes the visitor then walks back to his mistress and settles back down under the desk. "What can I do for you?" she says. Bates likes to come here sometimes when he's got a few days off and go explore the area. He likes to give her a hand too when there's some handywork to do and John is not around – which is not often these days, she reflects with a sigh.

"I got a call from the SGC. Sheppard has just touched ground and will probably be here earlier than you expected him. Thought I'd keep you posted," he mentions casually and chuckles when he sees her eyes light up.

"Thanks, Sarge," she says affectionately. He's not a sergeant anymore but she still calls him that for good times' sake.

He nods with a smile. He's always been fond of Louise and her cooking too and he's glad she looks so happy these days, especially when John is with her. "You miss him a lot, I see," he says tentatively.

She shrugs. "Goes with the job's description, I guess. I'm trying hard to get used to it though. I knew what I was getting into, ya' know," she answers casually but he knows better.

"But you'd much prefer to be with him..." He sees her hesitate. "I won't tell on you, if that's what you're afraid of," he offers.

She nods. "Guess so, yeah, but woolgathering about it won't change a thing, see. The City is here to stay for now and they don't need him there so they've redeployed him to do whatever badass job they need him for. I'm no military, Sarge, so I'm useless. End of the story," she answers, looking away.

"And you've not discussed it with him?" He sees the underlying pain of being away not only from him but also from her friends.

She shakes her head. "I don't wanna bother him with this and for nothing, might I add, because it won't change a damn thing. I guess I'll have to make do."

"Louise," he says, standing to leave, "I know it's not my business and all and it's not in my best interest because having you here is a blessing but I really think you should talk to him if you're not happy with the situation as it is. Who knows? There might be a solution."

She nods. "I'll take that under advisement, yes. Thank you."

She waits for him until way past midnight. He's called to say he'll have a long debriefing and is not even sure the Daedalus can beam him down, in which case he'll have to take a regular flight to come home. "Go to bed, sweetie. I don't want to keep you up for nothing. I might not be able to get there until tomorrow morning," he's told her but she stubbornly refuses to go to bed, shushing her dog impatiently when he starts whining to get her to bed so he can sleep too. He never does until she switches off the lights, faithfully keeping her company until she decides to turn in for the night.

She rests her eyes for a few minutes, closing her granny's cookbook.

The instructions to what she wants to test are messing up with her head. She'll need to set to work on it when she's well-rested, which is really not the case now. She's worked too much lately, trying to drown her loneliness and worry about where they are and if they're safe. To be honest, John spends every single day off he has with her, but they're way too few to be satisfying and these last few months he's been gone most of the time. Her dreams are filled once more with nightmares and sometimes she spends half of her nights cooking to keep her hands and mind busy.

She wakes up with a start at the sound of the front door being closed. The dog bounds towards the hallway. She calls after him. No matter how many times she's told him to wait for her, his good nature gets the better of him, wanting to see who it is who might be in the mood to play with him.

"This is no guard dog," John had informed her the last time he'd dropped by. "He rather needs to be protected if you ask me. What got into me when I bought him for you?"

She had shaken her head at his antics. "You bought the dog so I wouldn't be lonely, John. I can take care of myself," she'd added, showing him the P14 she keeps in her bedside table.

He'd shaken his head in disbelief. "Still the same reckless little thing," he'd muttered. "You'll make my hair turn gray, you know?" to which she'd cockily answered she wasn't interested in the color of his hair.

"Shep, come here," she calls after the dog again. He bounds back towards her and sits, waggling his tail. She rolls her eyes. "What is it?" she says. "Heard something?"

 _The dog's name had been a recurrent subject in their conversations during his two-week stay but truth be told, they really had other things on their minds and had settled for calling him Doggy or Puppy, depending on the mood of the day. The next time he'd come home and heard her call him Shep, he'd made a double-take. "You've called the dog after me?" he'd growled, advancing on her menacingly._

 _She'd giggled so much her stomach hurt afterwards. "Well, you have to admit, John, he's got your puppy looks. Besides, this one I got to order around!"_

"Might have heard me, yeah." John walks into her office and folds his arms on his chest. He looks pissed. "How many times have I told you to be more cautious, Léger? The door wasn't locked – again!"

She rolls her eyes. "The house is full of people, John. Besides, I was waiting for you." She rounds her desk and walks to him, tugging at his arms. He complies and wraps them around her. "I missed you," she says sheepishly.

He lifts her in his arms and she wraps her legs around his middle, making him groan. "God, I hope so because I missed you even more," he says and starts moving them out of the office and into their room.

She giggles. "You're not one to make small talk," she banters, all too happy to see him so needy.

He pushes her on the bed and settles on top of her, kissing her until she gasps for breath. "No, Ma'am. I need to make up for lost time. God, you have no idea how many times I've dreamed of doing just that," he tells her, divesting her of her clothes then getting out of his own in the blink of an eye and pushing into her with a sigh of content and not so much as a warning, making her gasp. "God, Louise, you're so tight and warm... I never want to leave this room again," he says against her lips, and smirks, seeing her eyes cloud with need, the forewarning she's ready to topple over the edge already.

She moans and her breathing becomes uneven and he can't help teasing her. "You said the house is full of people, right? Still not much of a screamer?" he smirks and hits that spot he knows is always her undoing, silencing her with a kiss.

He waits for her breathing to slow down a bit before starting moving again. She gasps when he whispers in her ear. "I'm gonna take you long and slow, Léger... long and slow. And I hope you're in no hurry to hit the sack because I intend to love you all night." She could just come from hearing his voice so close to her, promising all she's needed so badly since he left almost three months ago – a lifetime.

She sighs with content and wraps her arms around his shoulders and draws him closer, tracing the pattern of the scars scattered on his back. "I have nowhere else to go, Colonel. I'll hold you up to your promise. Until the crack of dawn, John." Her last word is a whimper as he makes her come again with a smirk on his face.

John doesn't often promise things but when he does, he never goes back on his word. She's got dark circles under her eyes that morning when she serves breakfast. Only Bates smirks as he sees John enter the room casually – being the only one not to ask her if she's doing all right. His former CO kisses the top of her head and then heads towards Bates and the other guests to shake hands. He helps himself to some coffee and sits next to him, making conversation about platitudes with the people around the table then heads back to the kitchen to help her. He walks up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her to him, and kisses her neck. "I shouldn't have kept you up all night," he apologizes, seeing how tired she looks.

"Is OK," she replies, distracted by his kisses. "I don't mind. As a matter of fact, I wouldn't mind being kept up every single night for the rest of my life, John," she says then clams up, realizing he might get the underlying regret.

"I'm not around enough," he states, pouting.

She turns in his arms. "No, it's not what I meant. What I meant is... It's just if we were still on Atlantis, we'd have each other all we wanted. I wish we'd never come back here," she blurts out and then clamps her hand on her mouth, looking horrified. "I'm sorry. Forget I said that."

He kisses her. "No need to apologize if it's the truth. You never mentioned it until now. Are you lonely, Louise?" He bends and looks into her eyes.

She nods sheepishly. "And bored too."

He barks a laugh. "Now, that takes the cake! You barely have a day off but you're bored?"

She shrugs. "I used to feed two hundred plus people and suddenly I only have ten at the most to worry about. Hell, yes, I'm bored!"

He pouts. "We need to do something about it then," he answers and a smile spreads on his face.

"What?" she demands, seeing his gaze turn wicked. "You're onto something," she accuses him.

He looks around innocently. "Don't see what you mean, Ma'am."

TBC


	60. Chapter 60

_Chapter 60_

It's a couple of weeks before Christmas when he returns – until at least New Year's Eve, he promises. They've worked their asses off to complete their task, whatever that is. She never asks him to explain more than what he lets on because she knows there's always a possibility they might be overheard through whatever listening device is lurking in the sky. You're never too cautious. Knowing they've succeeded and returned mostly unscathed, except for a few bruises and broken ribs for him as well as a few of his men, including Ronon, is all she needs to know. He'll tell her when he's ready or allowed to do so. She tells herself she shouldn't complain. She gets regular updates from Woolsey who's still minding the City and calls at least once a week when John's away. Her former leader has become her lifeline. Without his calls – which she knows have been authorized by the IOA – she'd be lost. She's been part of the whole secrecy surrounding the SGC and Atlantis for so long, she'd come to take it for granted, but it's not and it's becoming more and more difficult to feel kept out of the loop.

Everyone from the team, including Woolsey and her former under-cooks, have come at least once to visit her, staying sometimes for extended vacations but never all at once, so she's very excited to host them all for Christmas. She'll close the B&B for a few days before and after that date to make sure she has time to prepare everything and has as much time as she can with her friends.

John has not let on much the last time he called from the SGC, having only touched ground for a few hours before heading back to who knows where, but he's told her things are gonna change very soon and it might be the only opportunity they'll have to gather the gang again before long.

It keeps her awake at night, thinking it cannot bode well. Whatever he's gonna tell her means life changes again – big time. She's lost a few pounds and doesn't sing in her kitchen as she used to. She knows it's not good for business to look unwell so she keeps a brave front and tries to be gracious to her guests, pampering them, but she feels empty inside.

She sometimes even thinks about how John had been attracted to that traveller leader and wonders if maybe he sees her sometimes on his off-world missions. He's gone for weeks or even months at a time and, though he always comes home with that hungry look in his eyes and locks himself up with her in their bedroom for days when he comes home, she's afraid of the opportunities he's encountering out there.

It's their first Christmas here in Tahoe and she needs to buy everything – the tree, outside decorations, tree ornament, you name it. She doesn't really feel Christmasy and has thus decided to wait until later during the month to trudge to the stores. She sometimes cater to people in the area so she first deposits her boxes of Christmas cookies she's been ordered and heads for the store.

The B&B is closed and she's left Shep at Ray's while she shops. He likes to see other dogs and Ray likes to use him to train his new puppies, be the example to follow. When she returns, she barely has enough room for him. The car is filled with decorations and food supplies. She tries to find a radio station that's not playing carols but it seems like a lost cause so she switches it off with a growl, making Shep jump from the passenger seat with fright. She pouts. "Sorry, buddy. Your mommy is in a foul mood these days. Not you're fault, though. You're a good dog," she says, patting his head, making him wag his tail.

She rounds the bend and sees John walk down the stairs of the front porch, looking obviously upset.

She parks the car and lets the dog out who bounds towards him joyfully. He pats his head and lifts his finger to make him sit and wait then walks to her briskly. "Where were you?" he demands, frowning.

"And a good day to you too," she counters. "I was at the store, shopping for decorations as you can see," she says, pointing at the car.

He pouts. "Sorry. I got here half an hour ago. You were not answering your phone. I got worried."

She glances at her phone. "Oh, yeah, sorry. Didn't hear it in my pocket. Was kind of busy out there."

"Why didn't you leave the dog here?" he demands, still pissed.

She rolls her eyes, tapping her foot impatiently. "Left him at Ray's. He needs to have a social life. What got into you today?" she growls.

"Wanted to see you," he answers gruffly. "You were not there and as I said, I got worried."

She opens her arms. "Well, I'm here now..."

He relents and wraps her in his arms. She looks up at him and leans in, to get a kiss. "Are you still pissed at me, Sheppard?" she asks.

He gives her a peck on her lips. "Kind of, yeah!"

She bats her eyelashes playfully. "Angry sex?" she offers with a smirk.

They've left the decorations and most of the supplies in the car, only taking inside what needs to be put in the fridge. By now, Shep knows that he won't get any attention until John's spent time alone with Louise so he settles on his mattress with a sight as they pass the office to their room. John chuckles as he hears the dog's protest. "Don't start, buddy. She's mine for the next few hours. Better get used to it."

He closes the door and heads for the bathroom, motioning for her to follow. Her eyebrows shoot to her hairline. "Angry sex in the shower?" she teases him.

He wraps his arms around her and whispers in her ear. "Yes, sweetie. And we need to talk..." She sobers up for a moment and nods. They don't often talk about what he does as she always lets him initiate the conversations but when they do, they get in the shower in case they should be overheard.

"But it can wait until I'm sated and you are too," he adds, getting rid of his clothes impatiently.

"Still angry at me?" she asks as she joins him under the warm water.

"Very," he groans, turning her around so she faces the wall, his body pressing against her back. He smirks, hearing her breathing become uneven. "Aren't you?" he teases her, fondling her breasts with one hand while the other goes south, making her squirm. "I like it when you're angry," he says smugly. "Makes for even better sex..." She turns in his arms, blushing, which makes him smirk. "And I love making you blush like a schoolgirl," he adds. "Turns me on even more." He lifts her, placing one hand under her butt while his other arm wraps around her waist, pressing her against the wall.

She gasps knowing they're seconds away from having mind-blowing sex. Of all the places they've tried, the shower is her favorite. She whimpers. "John, please..." He's more than happy to comply and she forgets about the loneliness and worry of the last months, focusing only on the here and now.

They wash each other slowly, enjoying the touch of each other's skin and leave the shower on, speaking in hush tones. She's weak from the sex they've just had and the lack of food. She doesn't eat much these days though now he's here, she feels hungry again – ravenous actually. She smirks inwardly, thinking how good he is for her. Now he's here, she intends to take time to sit at the table with him and eat properly.

"You've lost weight," he points out, stroking her waist and hips, mirroring her thoughts.

She blushes with embarrassment and shrugs. "Got busy," she says.

"Excuses, excuses," he tells her. "Missed me?" he asks, raising his eyebrows.

She shrugs again. "Course I have, silly."

He nods and wraps her tightly in his arms. "I'm sorry. And for what it's worth, though I know it doesn't warm your bed at night, I missed you too."

She smiles against his chest and kisses him. "But it does warm my heart to know you still think of me sometimes when you're out there, working at saving the universe with those beautiful alien ladies..."

He growls. "Where did that come from, Louise?" He tilts her chin to him and looks into her eyes. "There's no one but you, sweetie. No one fills my heart with joy and my body with desire but you, little witch," he informs her, making her grin. He suddenly looks serious. "Louise, I need to tell you about what's been happening these last few months. I couldn't keep you in the loop but now is the time you know what me and the gang have been up to."

She nods. Here goes nothing. She makes a silent prayer this is good news.

He smiles at her reassuringly. "I promise it's only good things. Look, I'm telling you this now because there will be a meeting at work soon," he says, lifting his eyebrows. Work means SGC. Meeting means secret reunion to decide of the future of the galaxy and beyond.

She nods and waits. He caresses her arms under the warm water. "Let's make this quick or we're gonna grow fins," he banters. "Look, we've been out there all these months getting intel, planning and harvesting," he says.

She knows he means mingling with old and new allies alike, getting information about new threats probably and obviously laying their hands on quite a few ZMPs from the look of satisfaction he sports. "We are planning a new expedition," he whispers the last word in her ear.

She looks up in amazement. She'd never thought they'd leave so soon again. Her heart stutters to a halt. How can he say it's good news when he's going to leave her, maybe for good? She gulps and he sees she's not gotten his point.

"Hey," he adds with a reassuring smile, "not going anywhere without you. You're in if you want. All you have to say is yes."

"Yes," she simply replies right away, making him laugh.

"You're unique, sweetie. I haven't told you yet where or when or how long!"

"I don't care. As long as I'm with you, it's all I need to know," she says, turning off the shower and handing him a towel.

"OK. But not even a girly demand like, can I bring my food processors and bread machines with me?" he teases her.

She smiles. "Can I?"

He grins. "Of course. You're the cook, after all!"

She wraps a towel around herself and heads for the bedroom. "There's one thing though," she asks despondently, knowing he's going to say no. He looks at her expectantly. "Can I take Shep with me?"

He smirks. "Took you long enough to ask, sweetie. Yes, you may," he says and pushes her on the bed. "but as long as we find a dog-sitter on board for when we need to spend some quality time together."

They fly to Cheyenne Mountain the next day. Meeting's due a couple of days later when everyone's tied loose ends. They've left Shep with Ray. She worries they won't have time for their Christmas party. He laughs it off. "Once we're done here, it's gonna take some serious planning to do. We need quite a few new people to replace those who do not wish to come back as well. Don't worry. Plenty of time to have fun and say our goodbyes."

Once they're in the complex, they can talk all they want in secured rooms so he finally explains to her what they're planning to do. It blows her mind. Now Rodney and Zelenka have been able to activate the wormhole device, they can technically go wherever they want. Of course, not at once, so they need to make regular jumps from one end of a galaxy to the other and then to the next one. Apparently quite like what Destiny – that new ship on which the Alpha base survivors are trapped – was built for.

They've harvested enough ZMPs to last indefinitely. What they're planning to do is establish further contacts, as far as they can, and if they're lucky, rescue the Destiny's crew. It's like searching for a needle in a hay stack, they know, but following and maybe taking over the Ancient ship will lead them towards what the Ancients themselves were looking for in the first place, when they started seeding stargates across galaxy – the origin of everything. Rodney tells her all this and some more but the rest is lost on her, though she'd been clear she needed the Cliff Note version of his theory.

"So we're leaving with Atlantis?" is all she wants to know. She's missed the old girl and can't wait to get home again. Tahoe was fine for a few months but she's realized it will never come to mean to her what Atlantis is. She misses how the City seems to hum to her, telling her she belongs there – especially since she's been given the gene. Sometimes she still wakes up at night and hates to be reminded by the utter silence and darkness that she can't turn things on with her mind at her new digs.

Rodney rolls his eyes. "Yes, Louise, you can have her back!"

She beams at him and slaps his arm. "Good! When are we leaving?"

"You might want to know if you say yes, Ms Léger," Woolsey informs her, "that it might well be a one-way ticket."

She sighs in exasperation. "John said that to me three times already, O'Neill once – because, obviously he's the only around who's noticed I'm not as stupid as I look – and Rodney... I think I stopped listening after the fourth or fifth. I don't care. I want to go. I'll make sure everyone is well-fed, I'll go on food negotiations, and I will never whine. I promise," she adds, making the scout sign. "Please, take me with you, Mr Woolsey."

He smiles at her and shakes his head. "Actually, Ms Léger, it's not my call anymore. I won't be leaving with you."

Her eyebrows shoot to her hairline. "So who's the leader?"

John smirks, looking incredibly smug. "It would be me, sweetie. Oh, and by the way, I'm being promoted to full-bird Colonel," he adds, waggling his eyebrows. "Not bad for a guy who'd been told he'd never make it past Captain!"

She gapes and he mocks her. "Close your mouth, Léger. You're going to swallow a fly!"

She rolls her eyes at his antics. "You're going to be the leader? Then who's the CO?"

Lorne raises his hand. She snorts. "Might as well exchange your roles right away, guys, cuz I know how this is gonna end. John will want to go on missions all the time and you, Evan, will be left behind to mind the fort..."

Woolsey gives her a look so she clams up. If he allows them to not play it by the book, who is she to protest?

She calls after Mr Woolsey in the corridor at the end of the meeting. "Wait! I need to talk to you."

He smiles at her and waits for her to join him. "What can I do for you, Ms Léger?"

"Well, first, you could tell me you'll come to our Christmas party..."

He smiles at her and nods. "I will. Won't miss that for anything. Now, what's the second question?" he asks, knowing she's on an agenda.

She sighs. "You know me well. OK, eh, see, it's kind of embarrassing..."

"You want to know if sleeping with the leader of the expedition is going to be a problem," he supplies. She turns beet red but nods. "Well, apparently it won't. The IOA thinks you're actually an ace for the expedition. As for your relationship with Colonel Sheppard, they just want the assurance this is solid and not a fling. I suggest you make it official one way or another. You don't want them to think you two will fall apart and wreak havoc on the expedition. It was difficult enough to keep them at bay when you and Sheppard were at odds because of that young man you were seeing..." He sees her look up in surprise. "Yes, they know about him, Ms Léger, and then some," he says with a smirk. "But don't worry," he adds, patting her arm, "you and Colonel Sheppard are a given for this expedition."

He leaves but then turns round and points at her. "Just do as I advised. Make it clear you two are an item. This all secrecy thing has lasted way too long if you ask me." She snorts, thinking _you got to be kidding me! With all the secrets he keeps from the general public, he chides us for not having told our friends yet?!_

TBC


	61. Chapter 61

_Chapter 61_

It's well into the evening and she's danced with all her friends several times over when she hears Save the Last Dance for Me and turns to see John's eyes twinkle.

He's on the other side of the dance floor and winks at her then approaches her, palm up. "Would you mind dancing with me, lady. Cuz as I see, you've danced with everyone but me tonight."

She grins and takes his hand. "Thought you'd never ask..." she teases him. "Any reason you chose that song?" she adds wickedly, remembering their night on Atlantis.

He looks innocent. "Nope, just pure luck!" He looks her in the eye. "Louise, I need you to follow me here. It's almost midnight..."

They've talked a lot about how they could finally tell their friends, make it official, one way or another. "You can't expect them to just discover we're sharing quarters on Altantis," he'd told her, to which she'd countered that by now it was probably an open secret for all their friends.

"Still," he'd said, not wanting to let go, "don't you think we should..." He didn't know how to find the right words. Louise is very guarded when it comes to talking about their relationship – make it any relationship. She's opened to him more than he'd ever hoped but retreats into her shell if he wants to discuss the future. After she had the conversation with Woolsey, though, she knew there was no way around it.

 _They were sitting near the fire in the cabin with Shep at their feet when she told him about it. He had to admit – he was pretty proud of her for finding the nerve to recount what had passed between herself and her former boss. "So, you see. We have two days to figure out how to tell them," she'd said._

 _"Tell them what, Louise?" he'd teased her. "That I make you moan and sigh and ask for more?"_

 _She'd blushed and swatted his arm. "No! Actually," she'd added despondently, "I don't even know what to tell them because we never talked about what we are and that suits me down to the ground, you know."_

 _He'd smiled in her hair, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. "I agree. We just are. It's quite alright with me though if you want us to get married..."_

 _She'd disentangled herself from him and looked at him, horrified. "Jesus, no! Are you nuts?"_

 _He'd chuckled, knowing in advance what her reaction would be. "At the very least, can I buy you a ring?" he'd insisted. "You know, just so people see we're together."_

 _She'd shaken her head. "John, I don't need a ring. I don't care about those things. You know more than anyone I usually need to take them off to cook and then forget to put them back on. Besides," she'd added with a smirk, "believe me, people won't need a ring on my finger to know you and I are up to something..."_

 _He'd chuckled and relented. "Alright then but it doesn't solve the whole "tell your friends about it" problem."_

 _She'd answered she didn't like to plan ahead with these things. They'd find a way, somehow._

"You said we'd find a way," he elaborates. "I have a way," he smirks. "If you don't mind showing it off a little. On the plus side, you won't have to talk." He waggles his eyebrows playfully, making her giggle.

There are a few other couples on the dance floor and they're next to Rodney and Jennifer when it happens. He knows he has to move fast because the song doesn't last very long. He draws her closer and slows down, settling into a more languid pace then he's kissing her, wrapping his arms around her waist and shoulders and drawing her impossibly flush to him.

She feels herself blushing, her body temperature rising suddenly but soon forgets about where she is and opens her mouth, letting him kiss her as he does when they're alone – open mouth kisses that leave her breathless and needy.

She hears a couple of wolf calls. John finally releases her and grins at her, looking very pleased with himself. She shakes her head in disbelief and looks around. Everyone is grinning at them. Only Rodney scowls. "Took you long enough to come clean about it, you guys."

She retreats to the kitchen almost immediately – to clean a little, she says. John doesn't push her because he knows she's extremely uncomfortable with everyone staring at them. She just wants people to get used to the idea – period.

She hears the door open behind her as she finishes unloading the dishwasher. She sighs and turns. Rodney is standing in the doorway, looking very uneasy himself. She gives him a terse smile and motions for him to come in. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier," she apologizes. He was her first friend in the City and without him, she would never have met John.

"It's OK. I know you two needed to figure things out before you even talked about it. I get it," he replies gently, which is a miracle, coming from Rodney. She walks up to him and gives him a loose hug. "John says you two are not getting married," he mentions bluntly.

She bites her bottom lip. "Does that bother you?"

He shrugs. "Yes, a little. I was hoping I'd be the one walking you down the aisle."

She sniggers. "Rodney, you're priceless, you know?"

"Don't you wanna get married?" he insists. "I mean. Are you two planning to stay together or is it just a fling?"

She shakes her head. "Look, Rodney. I can't speak for John but I'm gonna say something to you I don't want you to repeat to anyone – and I mean no one and especially not him, OK?" He nods. "A wedding would never even come close to telling him how blessed I am he's come into my life. But I promise you I'll do everything I can to make sure he knows that – every single moment we spend together. Does that answer your question?"

He nods again and she sees he's more touched than he wants to let on. He clears his throat. "So, you are not even going to introduce him to your mother?" he prods, being his usual bull in a china shop.

She closes her eyes and breathes in then out and looks back at him. "Sorry," he says, knowing how difficult her relationship with her family is, though she never really got into details with him.

She offers him a seat. "I told John and I'm telling you now, Rodney. I don't wish to speak about my mother nor do I wish to see her ever again," she says. "Sometimes, there are things that cannot be mended and it's best to leave well enough alone."

 _John asked her the same question a few days ago. They were planning their departure, making to do lists of the things they'd take with them, those they'd have to leave behind, the people they needed to see..._

 _"Aren't you going to go and see your mother before we leave?" he'd suddenly asked, finally mustering the courage to do so after turning the idea in his head a hundred times. He knows what her mother has done to her over the years and yet, he also knows it might be the last time they're on Earth in years. It might be her last chance to talk to her._

 _She turns to him, glaring, and throws the stack of clothes she's currently holding on the bed then stomps to the door. "Louise," he calls after her, "talk to me."_

 _She turns to him and points at him menacingly. "How dare you utter that word? I told you once I never wanted to talk about her again."_

 _He bites his bottom lip but walks to her and tries to take her in his arms. She pushes him away impatiently, royally pissed. "Louise, please. Hear me out. It might be your last chance to tell her how much she hurt you all those years, make her understand," he pleads. "We still have time to do it. I'm not saying we stay or anything. I'm just saying we drop by. You give yourself a chance to get all that off your chest once and for all." She shakes her head stubbornly, looking cornered and scared. He grins. "On the plus side, you could make quite an impression if a certain full bird Colonel in his dress blues came with you..." he adds enticingly. "I could even pull a few strings and get us a helicopter..."_

 _"There's no room to land it," she shrugs but he sees her lips lift up a little, the tell-tale sign she's imagining the scene. "I like you in your dress blues, you know," she confesses in a whisper and wraps her arms around his neck, drawing him to her for a searing kiss that promising so much more._

 _He groans and pulls her flush to him. "But..." he prods, knowing there's more._

 _She slides her hands in his hair, pulling him closer. "But I don't want to go and see my mother. And I never want to talk about it. My life, my family, my decision, John." The tone is gentle but final. These last few months – ever since he's realized he had to choose between mothering her or being her companion – she's become more confident and voices her needs more easily. She's not afraid of telling him what she wants anymore and that has been a blessing because the Louise who's standing in front of him has finally found her balance and it benefits them both. They've talked about it a lot and she has understood she'll have to let him be her CO on the field but in life, they're partners._

 _He nods. "Got it, sweetie. Just had to ask. And it's good to know you like me in my dress blues," he adds mischievously._

Rodney smiles at her and pats her hand. "OK, whatever you say. But I still think it's a shame you two don't tie the knot. We could have such a nice party..." he sighs longingly.

She laughs, seeing how disappointed he looks. "You know what, Rodney? If you're so eager to have a wedding, why don't you ask Jen? She might say yes," she teases him and snorts when she sees him blush. "I wouldn't mind going to a wedding myself, just not my own!"

She puts the finishing touch to her dessert and brings it to the dining room where they've all assembled. John and Bates are busying themselves with serving champagne. He offers her a glass of sparkling water with a wink so she calls them all to attention.

"I'm not one for long speeches," she says.

"Make it speeches at all," John teases her. Everybody chuckles.

She lifts her hands in mock surrender, chuckling too. "You're right. So, enjoy the moment. Hopefully, it's a one-time thing. I wanted to thank you all for coming today," she says, "but most of all for giving me a second chance at life." She turns to Jack O'Neill and lifts her glass, beaming at him. "Friendship," she adds, squeezing Rodney's hand. "And love," she whispers to John and kisses his cheek. She hears a few sighs in the room. John is staring at her, in shock. She's never allowed herself to use this word with him before. "Stop gaping, honey," she teases him. Rodney snorts, earning himself a glare from John. "To second chances, old friends and new beginnings," she finally adds, her glass raised.

TBC


	62. Chapter 62

_Chapter 62_

 _We're reaching the end of this story. The sequel is coming up and is called "Life, with a little spice." (preview at the end of this chapter)_

 _Thank you all for reading this story. Hope to see you on the next one._

They're back on Atlantis on New Year's Day. New Year's Eve was not a grand affair as they all had their work cut out for them – final preparations, double and triple checking, handing Ridgeway and Wilson the keys... Wilson is disappointed her boss won't be there for their wedding and has even offered to have the wedding earlier but Louise tells her these things need to be done in due time and not rushed.

Before she leaves the house, she makes a final tour and pauses at the door to their room. He sneaks up behind her and wraps his arms around her. "Are you sad?" he asks, kissing her neck.

She shrugs. "A little. I'd especially like to take that room with us."

He chuckles. "I know what you mean but I have an inkling you'll like our new quarters and in no time, we'll have made a lot of new memories there..."

She giggles at the innuendo and his nose tickling her neck. "Can you give me a minute, John? I'd like to do something before I leave."

He relunctantly lets her go and heads for the front door. "I'll wait for you in the car."

She looks around one more time. This house is much more hers than his. He was away most of the time. She has fond memories here but he's right – they'll make new ones. She gets a package from her bag and leaves it on her desk with a note on top for Wilson. She'll find it tomorrow when they move in. She sighs. Wilson had often looked in awe at Louise's cookbook.

How many recipes has she written in there over the years? Testing and retesting them until they're perfect and good to go. She feels it's an appropriate gift to hand her – pass on her experience instead of keeping it to herself. She knows the recipes by heart anyway. In her trunks that will be delivered tomorrow, she's packed a brand new one and her grandmother's. There are so many things she still has to test in that one. Wilson will have to wait to get it. She smiles as she recalls the many hours she's spent writing her own and can't even begin to imagine how much time her granny had put in hers. She feels overtaken by emotion as she gives hers one last look, knowing in there are the photos of all those she's held dear and met and lost over the years. Of course she has copies of all the photos but somehow, she needs it to stay on Earth as a testimony of what has been, if they never return, and it warms her heart to know it's in the hands of a trusted friend.

She heads down the stairs after locking the door, Shep shadowing her, as always. John starts the car as they both get inside. "You're ready for the adventure of your lifetime, buddy?" he asks the dog who barks enthusiastically.

"I think being with you is already the adventure of his lifetime, John," she banters.

He looks hurt as he turns the car into the driveway and heads down the dirt road towards highway 80 and San Francisco. "Are you telling me I'm a handful?" he replies indignantly.

"That's exactly what I'm telling you, Mister!" she sniggers.

"Yeah, well, that would be Sir to you, lady, and you've just earned yourself a week in the brig for being disrespectful to your CO," he counters with a sneer.

She rolls her eyes. "Oh, come on! Not again! How many times have you threatened me of that one? Never did. Never will," she replies cockily.

He glances at her for just a second. "Don't be so sure of it, sweetie. One day, I might surprise you..."

"You surprise me every day, John," she replies and kisses his cheek, ending the argument.

"Nice save, lady!" he says and taking hold of her hand, kisses it then keeps it in his as he steers the car into the highway.

"I can't believe we're finally back!" she gushes, turning slowly to take it all in. They've just arrived on Atlantis. Equipment will soon make its way to the City but right now, they're still down to the skeleton crew who's been minding the place ever since they returned to Earth.

They're planning on spending the day evaluating what still needs to be done. McKay is already in his lab. Zelenka is with the techs in the Control Room. Dr Keller will arrive shortly at the infirmary. All other scientists, medics and military are at the SGC, getting ready to be beamed on board.

"OK," John says, bouncing on his feet, looking like a kid in a candy store. "Let's tour the place, shall we?"

She smirks. "You bet!" She turns to Amelia who's already at one of the consoles, running diagnostics with Zelenka. "Amelia? Can you watch Shep while we do? I need my full attention on my tablet, not on the sneaky little thing here," she says, giggling as she sees Shep's hopeful look and wagging tail. He's sat in front of her and is trying to be a good boy in the hope she'll take him with her. She gives him a look. "Now, kiddo, you stay here with 'Melia. We'll be right back." He looks so sad she almost relents but John pushes her towards the door.

"Don't let him use his puppy looks on you, hon'," he advises her. "He's a sneaky little bastard. He's only doing it to get something from you."

She gives him a look. "Now, look who's talking?"

He looks innocent. "I don't see what you're talking about, Ma'am."

He steers her first towards her kitchen but doesn't stop there and grabbing her hand, makes a beeline for the transporter that takes them to the storage room. "Why do you want to start there?" she asks, nonplussed. "There are just a few grates left. The bulk of our food supplies will arrive tomorrow."

"Because..." he drawls lazily. "I need to test a little theory there," he supplies.

"And what would that be, Colonel?" she wonders as they enter the place that is indeed rather empty and thus looks very uninteresting to her. She can't wait to see it filled to the brink. She closes her eyes for one second, imagining how fun it's gonna be to go from one crate to another and try to organize their life on board again. She sighs and feels his arms sneak around her waist, pulling her flush to him, making her gasp as he pushes her against a crate.

"John!" she protests. "You're not being reasonable. We're on duty here!"

"Sorry," he apologizes but does not let her go, "couldn't help it. It always turns me on when you call me Colonel."

"Promising," she pouts. "How am I supposed to call you then in front of the rest of the crew. Honey?"

He laughs and starts trailing his hand up from her waist to the side of her breasts, making her moan. "God, John, stop doing that! Try to focus. We're in the storage room, for Pete's sake!"

"I know..." he whispers in her ear. "I came here on purpose. As I said, to test a theory." She feels him harden against her and closes her eyes to school herself.

"And what would that be?" she asks patiently.

"Open your eyes, Léger. I want you to tell me something." His voice is collected, trying hard to bely the bulge she still feels against her belly. She does as told and looks into his eyes. They're almost cold, something she's rarely seen when directed at her. He wraps his arm around her even more closely and leans in to whisper in her ear, making her shudder. "I want you to try and remember what you felt the first time I held you like this – in this very room."

Realization hits her. He's talking about when he'd almost turned into a Wraith and had cornered her right here in this very room. "You remember?" she says, amazed. "I thought, I thought..." she stammers.

"You thought I did not because I never talked about it. Truth is, Louise, at the time, I was too embarrassed so I just chose to ignore the problem and pray it would go away. It's been my personal elephant in the room ever since," he tells her, his look so intense she wants to look away.

"Why? It was understandable and I never blamed you for it," she replies, not getting his point.

"Understandable? That, had I been a little further gone, I would have probably had my way with you right here, against a crate like this?" he prods, making her flush.

"John," she protests, "you know you wouldn't have."

"Really? Cuz from what I remember, Léger, it wouldn't have taken much more to tip me over the edge. The memory of course is mainly unpleasant because what comes to mind first is your fear – something I'd never thought I'd inspire you. But then, my most troubling and most enduring memory – one that has plagued me ever since – is your smell and the want building in your stomach, making your temperature rise and my instincts turn wild. Your body beckoned to me that day, Louise, and I always wondered if you were even for a moment aware of it," he rumbles, pushing her against the crate a little more, making her squirm at the memory.

She's at a loss for words. He's saying he was aware he was attracted to her physically at a time when she had not been given years back – at a time when she thought he could only see her as a friend, an older friend. "I... I had never thought of it that way, John. You know I never entertained the notion of seeing you as more than a friend back then," she can only say. What he's telling her boggles her mind. Have they been lying to themselves that long?

"It's not what I'm asking you, Léger. I just want to know if you were turned on that day?" His eyes are boring into hers. She gasps when he blows warm breath up her neck and kisses his way to her mouth. "I want to know if, had we not been interrupted, had I demanded more, you would have enjoyed it?"

"Yes," she finally sighs against his lips. Want shoots through her like a bolt, making her press against him. She wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him closer. "I guess we were never really "just" friends, right?" she says as he lifts her in his arms and grinds against her, cursing their clothes.

"I guess not," he mutters, lowering her to the floor. "All those years, Louise, I've had dreams of you and I, here, making love, and when I did, I chastised myself for being exactly what Rodney accused me of. I'm glad to know I was not so far from the truth after all," he sighs and settles on top of her. "Would you very much mind..." he hesitates, not knowing how she feels about all this.

She smiles at him. "You know I don't. Stop chastising yourself, John. Let's fulfill that fantasy of yours and then I'll tell you about a few of mine..."

He smirks and kisses her tenderly. "You never cease to amaze me, Louise." Then he adds in her ear, starting to undress her slowly. "We're gonna make up for lost time, sweetie."

THE END

(for now)

Life, with a little spice – Chapter 1 preview:

 _It happens almost three months into their journey – three blissful months of often stepping through the gate together and running the City side by side. All this – being on the City, sharing their life, sharing the same bed at night – she knew it couldn't last. She's told him once – whatever she did in her lifetime, the universe is making her pay for it. The universe, or the Ancients or someone._

 _She steps hurriedly into the gateroom, asking for help and freezes, her eyes darting from one side of the room to the other in alarm. Four marines have their P90s trained on her. They order her – rather yell than order, actually – to remove her backpack, vest and sidearm slowly and slide them towards them. Her eyes widen with fear and her mind starts spinning out of control._

Stay tuned! ;)


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